


An Unwanted Guest

by Hotcisawesome



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Assorted gravity falls characters, Captured Bill, Dipper has moral conflicts, Historical, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Questionable prisoner treatment, Slow Burn, for now, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-01-08 10:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotcisawesome/pseuds/Hotcisawesome
Summary: Set in early Gravity Falls when men could marry woodpeckers, Dipper and Mabel Pines are asked to look over their estranged uncles' properties and when Mabel chose the Mystery Shack, Dipper was left with Ford's house. It wouldn't be so bad if not for the demon chained in the cellar.





	1. A Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I've been in love with this ship for months now and I've decided to try my hand at it. Enjoy!

"Dipper! We've got a letter from the Grunkles!"

Dipper looked up curiously from his book at the sound of his twin sister's voice. Processing the words only caused his curiosity to grow as it wasn't often that their great uncles wrote, and even rarer to write a joint letter.

Having taken too long to respond, Mabel came rushing into their sitting room, eyes narrowing in on him.

"There you are!"

She then proceeded to bound over and thrust the letter in his face. "Let’s read it!"

"Calm down, Mabel, give me a second to open it." he said with a sigh, although he was unable to hold back a smile at her antics. Dipper set his book down on the small wooden side table and stood up, grabbing the letter as he did.

He made his way to the old writing desk in the corner of the room and fished out a silver letter opener from the drawer. The elegantly crafted knife had been a parting gift from his and Mabel's father after they had decided to go off to live on their own.

_"Your mother and I will be sending lots of letters, so please take this."_

He thought back to the moment it was handed to him, his parents helping pack for his and Mabel's soon-to-be life out of the California countryside and in the bustling city of San Francisco. That had been four years ago, and while the two did indeed still get letters, they hadn't seen their parents since. He missed them.

Dipper smiled bittersweetly, recalling how it felt to go from the quiet little farming community of his childhood to an apartment filled with fifty other tenants and a town with hundreds more, the streets a sea of noise and sights and people. It had been quite the shock to his 17-year-old self.

Shaking himself out of the memory, Dipper remembered the task at hand and opened the letter with a neat slice. He then removed the contents and read aloud for Mabel, who was bouncing giddily in the chair he had previously occupied.

 

_April 8, 1859_

_Dearest Niece and Nephew,_

_As you know, my brother, Stanley, and I have not been on the best of terms for some time now, but with our advancing ages, we have decided that it would be for the best to bury the hatchet and enjoy the time we have left together as brothers. We have begun construction on a boat and plan to sail the seas, something we've always wanted to do. Unfortunately, that leaves us with the predicament that the Mystery Shack Inn as well as my house will be left unattended. We know it's a lot to ask, but would you two be willing to come up to Gravity Falls and watch over the places? Please send a reply at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Great Uncle Ford_

_(It's astounding, Ford, your own niece and nephew and you write like it's a last will and testament. But seriously kids, it'd be a huge favor. Either way, could you come up before we leave to say goodbye, we might be gone for a while and I'd love to see how the two of you have grown into fine young adults. - Grunkle Stan)_

__

 

Dipper finished reading the letter with a slight frown, trying to recall the places his great uncles mentioned. He and Mabel had only made one trip up to the newly formed town of Gravity Falls once in their lives when they were children, 12 at most, and all he had were blurry memories of staying in the Shack and playing in a forest where he and Mabel pretended they were being chased by gnomes.

He knew for a fact he had never stepped foot in Ford's house. The man had been gone on an expedition throughout the American wilderness at the time, only returning after Stan tracked him down years later, dragging him back to Gravity Falls. Their relationship had been rocky ever since, until now apparently.

"Dipper, we've got to do it! They're finally trying to be family again!" Mabel urged.

She had a point, and he certainly didn't want to be the reason they didn't make amends, but there was still a lot to consider.

"Mabel, I have no idea how to run a bed and breakfast." He said, hand awkwardly carding through his hair.

"I can do most of that! I promise! You can watch over Grunkle Ford's house and we'll meet on weekends for tea and cookies!"

"Mabel..." But Dipper knew there was no use, she had the idea in her head and wasn't letting go. Plus, here in the big city, women couldn't get any _decent_ work and while Mabel tried to laugh it off, saying she was fine watching over the apartment and cooking meals, Dipper knew she wanted more, which was perfectly understandable.

Besides, it wasn't like he was leaving much behind. Despite living in the apartment for almost four years, Dipper had no deep connection to it and while his job as a banker's assistant paid the bills, it held no charm. Honestly, as long as he had Mabel, he wouldn't mind moving across the globe, and if this was what she wanted, then so be it.

"Okay, fine. I'll write back saying yes."

Mabel squealed in excitement and sprang up to hug him. "You're the best, Dip-Dop!"

He hugged back with an exasperated smile, rolling his eyes before pulling away to fix her with a serious gaze.

"But if we're doing this we'll need to start packing, get railway tickets, withdraw our savings. Should we even keep renting this place, who knows how long we'll be there." Dipper said, counting off on his fingers, already switching into planning mode.

Mabel nodded in understanding and they began preparations the following day.

Dipper handed in his resignation at the local bank, withdrew their funds, as well as broke the lease since they'd be gone indefinitely. He knew the sum of money the landlord asked for was highway robbery, but figured it was better than having to keep paying rent on a place that was just going to collect dust.

Meanwhile, Mabel worked on finding people who wanted their furniture as there was no way they'd be able to take it all. Lucky for them, she was a natural and they were left with empty rooms by time they were ready to head off, all their earthly belongings packed tightly within four suitcases.

Next thing Dipper knew, three weeks had gone by and he was turning in their key to the landlord, Mabel waiting out front with the luggage. On the way to the train station, each laden with two bags, Dipper glanced around at the city he had come to know. There were the freshly painted facades, the bakery that made cinnamon buns on weekends, the craft store where he bought Mabel yarn when they had money to spare. It was a bit of a shock realizing they were leaving it all behind, but then again, it was the same moving up here in the first place.

In the train station, trying not to breathe the soot-saturated air, the twins pushed their way through the crowds and boarded the three o'clock to Oregon City. As they sat down, Mabel turned to look at him, stars in her eyes.

"Are you ready for our next great adventure, bro-bro?"

Dipper took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short but I have more planned! Do you guys like it so far?


	2. Gravity Falls

Dipper and Mabel made it to Oregon City with no problem, but making their way to Gravity Falls proved to be near impossible.

The company horse-carriage drivers refused point blank when Dipper asked to be taken by a town that didn't even garner a spot on the official maps, leaving them to settle for a passing hay salesman who offered them a ride with the exception that he would only take them so far into the wilderness.

When the trees became too thick for the carriage, the driver left the two with a hastily drawn map of the path they should take and a vague hand gesture to the East.

Covered in hay from and stuck a mile into a rapidly thickening forest, four bags and a map between them, they had no choice but to keep moving. For the rest of the day, the two stumbled through the trees, following a road only slightly less covered with grass than its surroundings.

When their legs had grown weary and the baggage weighed down like rocks, the two agreed it was time for a rest as well as to eat the sandwiches Mabel had made before they boarded the train.

"I heard a man fell off a cliff and ended up founding where he landed as Gravity Falls!" Mabel said, ever cheerful, lying in the grass as she watched the clouds drift across a patch of sky not covered by tree branches.

"Well, that seems like the only way to find this godforsaken town." Dipper grumbled, studying the dubiously accurate map, turning it this way and that. He glared angrily at some squiggles he assumed meant a river. They had yet to come across one.

_"Dipper_ , language!" Mabel chided.

They eventually resumed their trek when the light began to noticeably lessen, neither willing to be stuck in the forest overnight. But when darkness was nearly upon them, Dipper was dead on his feet and Mabel's smile had waned. 

However, just as Dipper was about to give up and suggest they find a nice tree to camp out under, they turned a bend and saw a sign with faded words carved crudely into the wood.

_Mystery Shack Inn_ and an arrow pointing straight ahead.

Mabel's shout of joy caused a few birds to scatter but it gave the two the energy needed to keep moving. Useless map tucked away, the twins followed the trail of signs by the light of the moon and the stars shining up ahead.

Within half an hour, the path had led them to a clearing where a semi-decrepit building stood. Trusting that this was the place, and with not much of a choice unless they wanted to head back into the forest, the two went up to the entrance, faint yellow light tricking through the bubbly glass.

Dipper set down the bags to open the door for Mabel as well as give his arms a short respite. It felt great considering they had been nearly shaking in fatigue for the better half of the walk, even if he knew Mabel had given him the lighter two of the luggage set.

The bell tinkled above them and they made their way into a combination of a curio shop and hotel lobby. A woman with bright red hair slept at the counter.

Dipper walked up hesitantly.

"Uhh..." He began, unsure how he should proceed in this scenario.

However, no action more was needed considering the woman shot up in an instant, causing Dipper to stumble back.

"I'm wide awake, Mr. Pines. Honest.” she said, eyes open wide. _Well, at least this was the right place._

However, upon seeing that Dipper was not, in fact, her boss, the woman relaxed. “Wendy,” her badge proclaimed.

"Welcome to the Mystery Shack Inn. Would you like a room?" she said in a voice now tinged with the tiredness she had tried to hide a moment ago.

Dipper turned and looked nervously at Mabel. _Should they get a room? Should he explain the situation?_

Mabel rolled her eyes and stepped up, pushing him aside.

"Hello. I'm Mabel and this is my awkward brother, Dipper. We're here to talk with the owner, Stanley Pines, but seeing as it's so late, a room would be lovely. Two beds, please."

Wendy shrugged and nodded, handing them a key. Dipper dug out enough money to pay, noting that if this was how much Grunkle Stan was charging per night, even with such a terrible location, the few customers that came through would be paying more than enough to keep the business afloat.

Happily, Mabel led them to their room. It was a simple two bed place with admittedly comfortable mattresses, not that Dipper was able to enjoy them much as he threw himself face-first on the closer one and was out in seconds.

* * *

Dipper was sure he would have slept the day away if not for Mabel shouting, "Time to wake up!" along with a burst of light hitting his face as she opened the curtains dramatically.

Dipper groaned but sat up none the less, squinting at the haloed outline of his sister.

“It's nine o'clock, you've slept enough. _We've got to go see the grunkles!"_ she said, her whole body bursting with caged energy. Dipper considered himself lucky she had even let him sleep this long; she had probably been up since dawn, ready to start the day.

With a sigh, he got up, making an effort to smooth his hair and crinkled clothes.

"Bro-bro, please change, you look like you spent the night rolling around in the dirt." Mabel said, shaking her head as she made her way to the small mirror, looking for any strands of hair that needed touching up.

Fifteen minutes of grumbling later, Dipper had tidied up, quickly wiping himself down with a washcloth and changing into fresh clothes.

With that, the two left the room, making their way back into the lobby and looking for anyone who might be their great uncle Stanley. It was an easy task seeing as an older man with a freshly pressed suit was parading around the room, showing two middle-aged couples the various displays.

"...And here we have the octo-fish, a fish, but with eight heads!"

Mabel and Dipper hung back until the tour was finished, then moved in, Mabel taking the initiative to speak.

"Excuse me sir, are you the owner of this fine establishment?" She said in an airy voice.

With a distrusting glance, the man crossed his arms. "Yes, I am. Who wants to know?"

Mabel's demeanor switched instantly.

"Grunkle Stan! It's me, Mabel! And Dipper!" Arms shooting into the air with glee.

Stan was taken aback for a second, but then his face split into a grin.

"Kids! My, how you’ve grown." He pulled them in for a hug, Mabel reciprocating enthusiastically and Dipper a bit less so.

When they broke apart, Stan assessed both of them, then turned to Mabel.

"So, kid, you ready to learn how to run this place?"

Mabel puffed up with pride. "Yes I am!"

Grunkle Stan smiled. "Atta girl! Dipper, ask Wendy to take you down to Ford’s, she knows the way."

Dipper nodded and went to find the woman from the night before.

Seeing her at the desk, he walked up hesitantly, trying not to blush as he got the chance to really take in how attractive she was. He had been too tired the night before to see it, but in the fresh sunlight, the sight of her pale, flawless skin and kind eyes made his heart skitter. However, at her age, she was probably already married so he tried to put the thought out of his mind.

"What can I get for ya?" She asked him.

"Umm, could you take me over to Stanford Pines' house? Mr. Pines said you knew where it was." He responded, happy that his voice had remained steady.

"Definitely, anything to get me out of work."

With much enthusiasm, she stepped out from behind the counter and Dipper was startled to see her wearing pants. A job and pants in public? Mabel was going to love it here.

Wendy led them out of the house and then, bizarrely, straight for the wall of trees. Dipper slowed to a stop.

"Uhh? In there?" He asked.

Wendy nodded. "Yeah, Mr. Pines' brother built this second house after he came back from his explorations when he couldn't stand to live with his brother anymore. He wanted it away from everyone in general, actually. Peace and quiet, I can respect that."

Dipper shrugged and jogged to catch up with her. The two walked into the forest side by side.

For the next twenty or so minutes, Dipper was led down a winding path filled with the most interesting flora he had seen. Purple flowers that seemed to glow, tiny bead-like chains of white strewn throughout the trees. Overall, it was a much better experience than the walk to find the town.

Eventually, the trees cleared and the path widened out, a small cabin coming into view.

"Well, there it is. Have fun." Wendy said with a smile.

Dipper nodded and waved goodbye. He wished he had gotten the courage to talk to her more, he hadn't seen a ring on her finger so maybe they could have made plans or to meet up for another walk or something...

He watched her disappear back into the forest, then turned to the cabin. With a purposeful stride, he made his way up to the door and gave it a few quick knocks.

A few seconds passed before the door opened an inch, an eye peeking through the crack. The door promptly slammed shut.

_What?_

He was debating whether to knock again when the sound of about eight bolts unlocking met his ears. The door was then yanked open and Dipper was met with the sight of who he could only assume was his other great uncle.

"Dipper?" said the man in question.

Dipper nodded, taking in the man before him. He had very similar features to his brother, perhaps a bit younger looking. Thick glasses adorned his face along with a thin layer of stubble. The man smiled.

"Great! Thank you so much for doing this for me, you and your sister. I know we've never formally met, but you can call me Ford. Come in, come in."

Dipper did as told, but the sight that met his eyes made him stop in his tracks. The room was a _mess_. Papers were strewn across every surface, pinned to walls and covering tables. Strange jars lined shelves along with plants and stacks upon stacks of books. The smell was one of mildew and stale air.

"So... This is your place..." Dipper said, trying to smile genuinely.

"Mm? Why yes, it is. This is all my research that I’ve been conducting. There are so many things in this world, Dipper. Too many for a mortal man like me to discover."

Dipper nodded slowly. "...Oo-kay?"

Ford then set off explaining how he'd like his house run while he was gone. Watering plants, watching the jars to make sure they didn't catch on fire. Feed this creature that was apparently called an axolotl, and a number of smaller tasks.

While Ford hadn't mentioned it, Dipper added "clean everything" to the mental chores list he had created. He may not be the best at hygiene, but he was not going to live like this for the next indeterminate amount of time.

Lastly, Ford brought them to a cellar door connected to the floor of his kitchen where Dipper assumed he was going to be taught how to create and check up on root and meat preserves. He was about to tell Ford that he was already more than capable from working on a far for 17 years of his life, but the dire expression on his great uncle's face made him freeze.

"Now, Dipper. Know that I'm only showing you this because you need to be prepared. Follow me."

Dipper's eyes widened. What could have Ford sounding so serious?

With a grim expression, Ford opened the cellar door; the wood creaked and a puff of cool air escaped. His skin crawled. The older of the two went first, carrying a lantern to light the way. Taking a fortifying breath, Dipper followed, stepping into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's in the cellar?! Dun dun dun. Jk I think you all know, assuming you read the fic summary.
> 
> Hope you all liked it!


	3. Ford's Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Third chapter!

The narrow set of stairs creaked under his weight, the rails on either side rough and splintering. However, upon leveling out, all that Dipper was met with what could only be called an ordinary cellar, similar to ones he’d seen before. There were simple wooden shelves lined with salted hams and pickled vegetables, backup firewood was stacked neatly in the corner. Besides some jars of odds and ends that were no more bizarre than Ford's upstairs belongings, nothing seemed to be amiss.

Turning away from the decidedly anticlimactic sight, Dipper looked questioningly at Ford who had, at some point, made his way to a crate shoved in a corner that he had missed upon first inspection. The shadows of the cellar and the crate's unobtrusive position had the desired effect to make it easy to skim over, even though the thing must have been seven feet tall. Now the question was what was in it.

Dipper stepped closer to see that Ford was working to unfasten a latch on its front. He was about to voice his question when suddenly the front was swinging open like a door. At first glance, the crate was empty. Dipper's brows scrunched in confusion and he leaned forward for a closer look. With a start, he realized that his initial conclusion was wrong.

What he thought had been darkness from lack of light was not the case, seeing as Ford's lantern was shining inside. Instead, the interior consisted of a false backing, opening up to an earthen tunnel.

After coming to this realization, Dipper startled back, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste. This was quickly becoming ten different kinds of weird. Ford merely stepped in with a sigh, gesturing for him to follow. This was worse than the original feeling of not wanting to go into the cellar, all the fear and uneasy prickling coming back at full-force, compounding with even more questions.

He certainly didn't want to step foot inside this new tunnel and his feet remaining glued to the ground while Ford stood impatiently. In the end, Dipper made himself move forward. What else could he do?

The walk was short; the cool, damp air making Dipper want to cough. The darkness was absolute beyond the lantern's ring of light, almost a physical presence in it of itself.

When the tunnel made a sharp turn, it suddenly let off into another room about half the size of the main cellar. This time, what was in the room made Dipper's eyes bulge, a silent scream caught in his throat. Lit faintly by Ford's lantern, Dipper took in the sight of a man bound against the wall, thick iron shackles adorning his wrists, arms spread out and feet barely touching the ground in a way that made sure he could never get relief.

The man was slumped over and motionless, kept from falling by his wrists in a way that evoked images of crucifixion. What once must have been neat, fitted clothes now hung off, shredded and dirty. Dipper saw no sign that he was alive.

_Was this how it was going to end? Was his great uncle going to murder him?_

Dipper watched, frozen in horror, as Ford stepped up to the body. Before he could reach it however, the cuffed man reanimated, straightening up as much as possible, toes fighting for purchase on the dirt floor. He opened an eye. Where the other one should have been, a triangular patch took its place.

"Well, well, well, Fordsie. Good to have some company! It's so lonely down here. Oh, and who's this?"

The man's voice didn't fit the bedraggled body, coming out strong with an almost echo-like quality. Ford gave him a harsh shove for no apparent reason, the man's back hitting the wall with a sickening thud. Dipper was about to put himself between the two in an effort to stop this madness when Ford's hand darted out to stop him.

"Dipper, don't. This is no man, this is a demon."

At that moment, Dipper realized his uncle was absolutely insane.

He needed to get out, needed to get help! His eyes darted wildly around the room, but Ford's hand was now clamped like an iron first on his shoulder.

Surprisingly, the cuffed man burst into cackles at the accusation.

"He's right, kid."

Dipper froze and stared in astonishment. He couldn't have possibly heard right. The man merely smiled and in the dim lantern light, with all the shadows and angles, it almost looked demonic. Almost.

The man continued. "The name's Bill Cipher, and while I may look like one of you unfortunate meatsacks, it's nowhere near the case. I'm more powerful than you could ever imagine."

Bill's grin turned into a leer, leaning forward as much as his constrictions would allow as he spoke.

"Okay, that's enough, Bill. We're leaving.” Ford said harshly before yanking Dipper away and marching him out. Still trying to process what had just happened, Dipper crane his neck to stare at Bill, managing to see the "demon" cheerfully wave a hand within the cuffs before the tunnel turned and he was out of sight.

Coming to his senses, Dipper could only stay silent until they got out of the cellar and when Ford closed the door, he rounded on him.

"What in God's name was that!?" He yelled.

Ford rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Dipper, I agree it looks bad, but there's more to this world than you've been taught."

Dipper crossed his arms. "Then tell me. Tell me or I'm going to tell everyone in town that you've got a man chained in your cellar." 

"A demon, Dipper."

When the sentence was uttered, all the energy seemed to sap out of Ford. He heaved a sigh and took a seat at the kitchen table, head in his hands. Against his better judgment, Dipper followed suit, but still glared daggers at the man. He wasn't getting off that easy.

When he saw that Dipper was willing to listen, Ford sat up a bit straighter, fingers drumming on the table. For the first time, Dipper noticed he had six on each hand.

Finally, his great uncle spoke, voice quiet but with a roiling anger underneath.

"It was before I set off on my expedition. I was an up and coming scholar and I wanted to work on natural phenomena. This town was where I set up my study and I found so much, there was enough to study for twenty lifetimes. Then, one day, _he_ found me. He said I was special, that a bright mind like mine deserved to understand more. He was my muse..."

While what Ford had been saying could have been a lie, the emotions on his face were very real. Dipper reluctantly let go of some of his distrust as his great uncle continued with the story.

"Bill showed me things, things beyond my wildest imagination. I thought we were partners. Then, he wanted me to build something and I was happy to follow his orders."

Ford took a shaky breath.

"It was a portal, Dipper. A portal to Hell, or what seemed like it!" he slammed his fist on the counter, an angry scowl twisting his features.

"The second I opened it, he laughed. The sound haunts me to this day. I shut it off as quickly as I could and when I did, he turned on me."

Dipper was now listening with rapt attention, eyes wide as the story progressed.

"My expedition throughout America was not because of any whim. I set out to look for anything to stop Bill Cipher, all while he was after me for my betrayal from his point of view. No surprise, I foiled his plan, he wanted to start the apocalypse on Earth. Well, he called it Weirdmageddon."

"When Stanley found me, I knew I'd be a sitting duck if I couldn't find a way to end the horrible chase. While I hadn't found a way to kill him, I /had/ discovered a way to trap him in a human body made of his own energy, in effect creating a loop that makes him almost inert. Back at Gravity Falls, I performed the incantation and locked him up."

"Unfortunately, while he became severely weakened, he cannot die. Believe me, I've tried."

Dipper flinched at that last statement, recalling the sorry condition of the ... demon. His uncle didn't seem to notice his discomfort.

"Now I keep him here in warded cuffs as well as unicorn hair surrounding the cellar." he continued, "Unicorn hair acts as a barrier to keep demons out, or in this case, in."

"However, despite all my efforts, Bill Cipher is still a cunning and manipulative demon, one who can enter your dreams and sway your thoughts. I have no doubt he has some plan or another to escape when the time is right. If he does, he could easily find a way to unbind himself and resume his plans. I know the story is far-fetched, Dipper, but it's the truth. We can't let that happen and since I'll be gone, it'll be up to you to guard him. Will you do it?"

With that, Ford's tale drew to a close and he looked pleadingly at his nephew.

Dipper was stunned. Of course, all that had been told to him could have been a lie, but it didn't seem like it. Everything added up, and Bill hadn't exactly denied the claims like any sane person would do. That left him with the realization that if his great uncle was telling the truth, this was real. Demons, the apocalypse, all of it. Ford had battled a demon and came up on top.

It was clear to him now that no matter how helpless the _creature_ in the cellar had looked, he was evil and could not be trusted.

His decision was made. Dipper looked Ford in the eye, resolve firm. "I'll do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this story! Hope you guys are liking it so far!


	4. Moving In

The two headed back to the Mystery Shack not long after. Walking along side each other, Dipper's thoughts were consumed with what he had been told back at the house. He wanted more of the story, clarifications, advice for how to "guard" Bill. However, Ford's stiff demeanor did not give the impression that the topic was up for discussion, so Dipper did his best to restrain himself.

At the Mystery Shack Inn, they met up with Mabel and Grunkle Stan. Mabel ran up and pulled Dipper in for a hug, immediately filling him in about her day of business and inn-keeping.

With a start, Dipper realized that Mabel had no idea about what he had just been through. Although Dipper knew she could have handled it, he was certainly relieved that it had been him instead of her to get Ford's house. He didn't that demon anywhere near her sister and no matter how capable Mabel was, it was still his responsibility as a brother to protect her.

That being said, he was reluctant to even mention the situation. Mabel was so happy with her new job and he didn't want to involve her secondhand in something so dangerous, she'd be worried and he was a grown man, he could do this himself. So for the moment, he'd tell her nothing.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent packing the wagon for Stan and Ford's upcoming trip, the four Pines alternating between strapping in personal belongings and disassembled parts of the Stan O' War II. They finished before darkness fell, but Mabel persuaded them that it was no use to head out and only get an hour of travel time before they needed sleep. Grunkle Stan agreed and suggested they all stay at the Shack for the night then have one last breakfast together before the departure. Everyone readily agreed.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Soos, the handyman/chef/anything else the Shack needed him to be, was kind and talkative, reeling Dipper into a story involving having to remove a racoon from the floorboards that had them both in stitches. The food was warm and homely and Dipper mourned his abysmal cooking skills, realizing for the first time that neither his mother nor Mabel would be there to help him with preparing meals.

The meal ended as the quiet chatter faded, each person slowly taking their leave. Dipper and Mabel made their way back to the room and while Mabel tiredly kept trying to tell him more about all the people she'd met so far, this night she was the one falling asleep as she stood. With a bleary smile, she eventually gave in and settled down for bed, giving a quiet goodnight to her brother.

Dipper smiled fondly at the curled up figure as he blew out the candles, the artificial light becoming replaced by the faint sliver of moonlight from where the curtains didn't completely overlap.

With a happy sigh, he slid under the covers and tried to get comfortable. Then tried some more. Dipper opened his eyes and stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling, trying to quiet his mind.

While packing and dinner had distracted him for the time being, his thoughts were now free to wander and they kept going to what had been asked of him. Ford's house, down the stairs and into the cellar, imagining what Bill was up to...

Dipper had no idea when he fell asleep, but it was fitful and unfulfilling. He got up at the crack of dawn, unable to return to his slumber. Careful to not wake Mabel, he left the room and headed for the door leading to the outside.

Stepping onto the porch he was hit by a soft breeze, the smell of grass and dew and _cleanliness_ overwhelmed his senses. There was no city grime nor animal byproduct in the vicinity, one or the other always seeming to be a constant in his life.

The stillness of the early day made everything sharpen in relief, and with a smile he took in the verdant colors of the forest while the sky towards the east became alight with golden flames.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Dipper let out a startled yelp and fell off the small deck, landing in a heap. Groaning as he sat up and brushed the dirt off himself, he looked up to see Grunkle Ford, whose demeanor was half amused-half concerned.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He meekly apologized.

Dipper merely sighed and got up, heading back to where Ford stood to join him. They stood in silence for a few minutes, his uncle finally being the one to break it.

"Dipper, I'm sorry for what I have asked you to do. This was my mistake and no one else should have to atone for it."

"Don't worry, Ford. I can handle it." Dipper tried to reassure.

"But we might be gone for months, years, don't you understand? I'm not going to lie, many a man never come back from the sea, and I'd hate for this to become your life. I just... I don't want you to become me." Ford said, hands making fists at his sides.

"I've made too many mistakes in my life and you've got to promise me Dipper, promise that you won't fall for the same tricks. Bill cannot be trusted. He'll make you feel like the most important person in the world, promise you power, wealth, fame. He will do anything in his power to get you to free him, and you must not give in. Heck, don't even go down there, let him rot! He deserves it."

Dipper nodded along throughout Ford's speech, eyes wide in admiration. His uncle may have been fooled once by Bill, but now they had the upper hand and Dipper was going to make sure it stayed that way.

* * *

Breakfast passed in a flash and next thing he knew, he and Mabel were waving off their great uncles, watching the heavily-laden wagon head off down a trail that would lead into the main town and from there, the adventure would begin.

"Well, i's just the two of us now, dip-dop!" Mabel said, resting an arm on his shoulder.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah. I guess I should head over to Ford's..."

Going inside the shack, he grabbed his two bags and went back out where Mabel still stood. She then threw her arms around him, causing him to almost fall off the porch for the second time that day.

"I'm gonna miss you!" She said, head buried into his shirt.

"Mabel, I'll be a twenty minute walk away." He tried to console, awkwardly returning the hug while still maintaining his grip on the suitcases.

"But I'll miss you too. I'll come over often."

"For tea and cookies?" She sniffled.

"Yeah, for tea and cookies."

With that, they broke apart, Dipper giving her a final wave before heading into the forest, carefully making his way to what would now be _his_ house for the foreseeable future.

At the door, he swelled with pride as he pulled the small key from his pocket. Hastily given to him as Ford had mounted the wagon, he was aware how much trust had been handed to him and he was determined to show that he was worthy of it.

He turned the key, hearing the tumblers click.

Stepping inside, the interior was the same as it had been left: untidy and swirling with dust. Dipper put his luggage down and his hands on his hips. Well, he had the whole day free, might as well make use of it.

First, he took a closer look at each of the rooms since Ford had only focused on his duties. There was the living room/study, Ford's bedroom/study, the kitchen, and a study/spare bedroom. Dipper only knew the last room doubled as a bedroom due to the cot shoved in the left corner, neatly made in a way that made it clear it hadn't been touched in ten years.

In the end, he decided to shove most of Ford's project in the man's bedroom as it was the largest. Dipper also hadn't felt comfortable using his uncle's bed, so he instead cleaned out the spare bedroom to better fit his tastes. Make no mistake, he was fascinated by all the writings and diagrams and experiments, but he'd rather not have ... "on-fire fire ants" by his face each night. Those little guys were given a sunny spot by Ford's bedroom window.

As Dipper moved around books and boxes and papers, he made sure to open the windows and flap out the sheets to remove the dust. He coughed as it permeated the air, but that was much better than leaving it to build up even more.

Finally, as it became dark enough that he needed to fire up the oil lamps, he felt his work for the day was done. Sure, there were still piles of paper and a few boxes scattered about, but now the furniture was visible and the place also smelled much fresher. Barring Ford's room, he felt this was a house he could live in, and he could always clean more as the days passed.

At that moment, his stomach rumbled. He had been so caught up in the work at hand that he hadn't eaten lunch. Now, he made his way to the kitchen, unsure of what to do. Luckily, a half loaf of bread was wrapped in a towel, so Dipper deemed it good enough and dug in. Tomorrow, he'd have to to go into town and see what he could buy to make an actual meal.

As Dipper tore off and bit into a piece of bread, he wondered how Mabel was. This was the first time in their lives that they weren't living together, and it was odd. He knew logically that they'd go their separate ways eventually, but having it actually happen was another thing entirely. There was no one else in the house to talk with, to spend rainy days reading by the fire, to bring home a bag of raspberry drops and eat entirely too many together.

He was all alone…

Well, actually he wasn't.

Dipper's blood ran cold. Nope, not going there. Bread finished, he immediately pushed his chair back and busied himself with chores, making a wide berth around the cellar door as he exited the kitchen.

No exploding jars, the plants were watered, animals both fiery and not were fed. In the chicken coop, Dipper was pleased to find two eggs which he carefully brought inside, setting them on the counter for breakfast the next day.

After preparing for bed, he settled on the cot, stretching his arms and legs out as much as the frame would allow. While it was a bit small and stiff, he could live with it. He gave the moonlit room a cursory glance, the papers on the wall fluttered due to the slightly ajar window. He was gently carried to sleep by the sound of swaying trees and the light scent of the forest carried in by the breeze. Maybe living here wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Dipper is all nice and calm, I wonder how long that will last.


	5. Bill Cipher

Dipper woke up extremely stiff. Okay, maybe keeping this cot wouldn't work in the long run. Rubbing his shoulders to relieve some tension, he removed himself from the covers and made his way into the kitchen. He then spent ten minutes fiddling with the stove in order to cook the eggs, loading in coal to the monstrosity and figuring out how to get it to light. He hadn't worked with one of these since his youth because they were not fit for apartments, too large and not enough ventilation.

By time he got to eating his breakfast, he had to scrub his hands especially hard to remove all the coal dust, which also got on his outfit. Overall, Dipper deemed the affair to have been entirely too much work for breakfast.

Grumbling to himself about the ordeal, he finished eating and got dressed, finishing his outfit with a light brown coat due to the cooler than normal day. He then made his way past the Mystery Shack and into town for groceries and to ask around about a job. He'd need one if he was going to live here as his savings wouldn't last forever. 

Arriving at his destination, he was struck by how small the town was. A line up of buildings, a few faded storefronts and a restaurant or two. It was much different than he had grown used to, but he saw the charm all the same, smiling as people waved and chatted, having known each other their entire lives.

First on his list was to inquire about a job. He had farmhand as well as accounting experience, so surely he'd be a desirable employee. With that in mind, he combed the windows, looking for anything that might indicate a business was hiring.

Dipper's mind wandered as he made his way through Gravity Falls. He couldn't believe that his life had changed so suddenly, but on the other hand he was glad that things had worked out the way they did. His old life had been nothing but monotony, but here, from what he saw of Ford's studies, this little town was brimming with mystery and adventure. He was excited to be able to further explore the forest and to take a closer look at his great uncle's writings.

By midday, he found a small clothing repair shop run by two ladies, Candace and Grenda. They needed an assistant in general for sewing and bookkeeping and while neither sounded particularly interesting, the pay was well and the hours short. He didn't need much anyways, seeing as he no longer had to pay for rent.

Even though he had confessed that he was subpar at sewing, Candace, who had asked for him to call her Candy, assured that he would pick it up in no time.

He watched uneasily as the woman's nimble fingers shift the fabric this way and that as he was given a demonstration, doubtful that he could ever become that graceful. Then again, if Grenda, whose bulky and muscular frame to him looked much more fitted for blacksmithing, could manage, so could he. Besides, they were more concerned on the bookkeeping and accountant aspect, which he assured he was more than capable.

Leaving the store with a promise to show up at 10 a.m. the next day, he made his way to the marketplace. Inside, he looked around at the various foodstuffs. In the end, he got a few bottles of chicken stock and various vegetables to make a simple soup that would tide him over for a few days. He also bought a large bag of flour and other baking ingredients that even he knew were crucial.

Going through the bookstore was his last stop, and he was determined to find a recipe book. In the end, he picked out one by Susan Wentworth, a lady here from Gravity Falls. He had thumbed through it and while the recipe titles sounded a bit bizarre, he figured it would do.

Arriving home laden with goods, he made his way straight to the kitchen and began preparing the soup; he didn't want to be forced to do it by lantern if he waited too long. The knife cuts were a bit sloppy, the tomatoes coming out more squished than diced, but he managed. He stirred until it bubbled, then pulled the heavy pot off the flame.

Staring down into the contents, he tried not to pull a face. It looked like soggy vegetables… _Well, here goes nothing_. Dipper ladled out a bowl and took a bite, frowning a bit at the almost tasteless quality. Then again, he supposed the outcome was better than it tasting awful.

When he had eaten two semi-satisfactory bowls, he put the rest in several jars he had found lying around. (First making sure to first wash them thoroughly with the spigot out back, not wanting to be poisoned by residue from whatever experiment Ford had previously used them for.)

It was then a bit past five and he was at a loss of what to do. For a while, he padded around the house, checking the experiments. A couple of glowing mushrooms held his attention for a while, as did reading up on gnomes from a paper pinned to the wall. So they _were_ real.

However, everything thing he found to occupy himself didn't hold his attention for long. Perhaps he should just read a book, Ford had so many to choose from. But even that didn't have much appeal at the moment. Dipper found himself wandering into the kitchen for no other reason than that he was bored, but when he did, his eyes immediately were drawn to the cellar door.

He reeled himself back with a start. Whoa! No, that was not happening. He may be bored but he wasn't that bored.

He took a step towards the cellar. Okay, maybe he _was_ that bored.

What was Bill up to? How does one spend days on end being strung up, constantly in pain? Well, Bill was a demon, he probably didn't feel pain. Most likely, the demon was plotting ways to escape, and if he went down, Bill would surely manipulate him one way or another. He couldn't let that happen.

At the final thought, he tore his gaze from the innocent-looking wooden door. He wouldn't go down there, there were too many unknowns. Instead, Dipper went to find a book, plucking one off the shelf at random.

He sat in an armchair near the window, squirming a bit to get comfy. He opened the book with a firm resolve, but six pages into "Artifacts of Ancient Greece," he couldn't stand it anymore.

With a frustrated groan, he slammed the book down and marched into the kitchen, lighting a lantern and yanking open the cellar door. If this was what it would take to get it out of his system, then so be it.

He lost quite a bit of confidence as he made his way into the cellar. Without the presence of another person, all the shadows seemed to flicker and move as he opened the rusting latch of the crate. With a small yank it was undone, and he stood there for a moment contemplating his life choices. He was being stupid. There was a demon in there and here he was, walking in head first. He shivered, both due to his situation and the cold of the underground cellar beginning to get to him. It must be freezing during the winters.

Unfortunately, the less self-preserving half of him won out. No matter the danger, this was new, this was _exciting_. Dipper tentatively opened the crate and stepped forward, the ground going from packed dirt to wood then back again.

Lantern held outstretched, he walked the short distance between the real cellar and the hidden one. Before passing the bend, he straightened up and put on an air of confidence. Bill needed to know he was the one in charge.

He turned the corner and once again, the lantern shed light onto the still-frightening scene, but this time he refused to let his emotions show.

Similar as before, Bill was strung up, slouched forward and unmoving. However, upon hearing Dipper enter, he lifted his head to see who had entered.

"Oh, you again! I'm touched. Are you going to make a habit of coming down here because I must say, these walls do _not_ know how to hold a conversation."

Dipper stood there, a good ten feet away, glued in place. Bill rolled his eye. "Cat got your tongue, kid?"

Having no idea what to say, Dipper stayed quiet, but took a few steps forward, still leaving a safe distance between the two. The first time down here he hadn't been able to get closer than Ford allowed, but now it was just the two of them.

They looked at each other. Bill was a bit higher than eye level partly from his height and partly from his chained position. Dipper once again frowned at the harsh treatment, but he reminded himself that Bill had tried to start an apocalypse and kill his uncle, he deserved this.

Bill's expression read bored, but his eye glinted with intelligence, probably trying to figure out all he could, and here Dipper was, letting him. He wasn't sure anymore why he came down here. Sure, it was interesting, but it was also vaguely terrifying to be in the presence of someone who seemed to look into your soul with a passing glace.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know." Bill stated with a grin, as if seeing where Dipper's mind had been going. Maybe that was one of the powers that his human form still retained, or maybe Dipper was just an open book. Mabel had often said so.

Either way, Dipper found the courage to speak up because it bugged him when the phrase was left incomplete.

"And satisfaction brought it back."

_Curse him and his pedantic pet-peeves._

At Dipper's slightly shaking declaration, Bill laughed. "Oh, so you're here for satisfaction? While this isn't the best position for me to be in, I'm sure we could make it work."

Dipper's eyes widened, face going beet red. Bill hadn't just said that, had he?

Dipper saw the demon's gaze go from studying to appraising. Okay, time was up! Saying nothing else, he turned and left as calmly as possible, heart beating wildly.

Back in the kitchen, he dropped heavily into a chair. What had he been thinking?

But even as he berated himself for going down there in the first place, his mind was already going over everything that happened. He still had that initial curiosity, and maybe if he went down late at night, Bill would be asleep and he could look until he was satisfied. Then he wouldn't have to go back.

With that settled, he busied himself for the rest of the day with the usual upkeep of the house and then reading more of the book from earlier, it was actually quite fascinating when he wasn't distracted.

Dipper didn't want to attempt another visit until he was sure Bill was asleep, so he waited around at various stages of tiredness until the large grandfather clock chimed, signaling that it was three a.m. He figured if the demon slept at all, he would surely be sleeping by now.

With more confidence than before, he lit the lantern and made the descent. He promised himself that this would be the last time.

Unlike before, Bill did not raise his head upon Dipper's entry. Dipper sighed in relief and took the opportunity to move in much closer, barely a foot from the demon.

What he took in made Dipper want to immediately forget all of it. While the initial shock of seeing Bill had worn off, up close it came back in full force. Bill looked absolutely awful. His hair was stringy and oily, falling into his gaunt face. The arms pinned up must ache every day and around the wrists there were filets of skin from the constant chafing of the cuffs. The shredded outfit did nothing to hide his emaciated form and Dipper knew if not for demonic energy or whatever, he would be dead.

All of it made Dipper want to throw up. How long had this been going on? Was it ethical because Bill was a demon? For some reason, he didn't think so. Having taken in his fill, Dipper quietly left, uneasy thoughts swirling through his mind.

* * *

He was gone. Bill cracked his eye open to make sure. Unable to hold it in, he cackled, uncaring at how it shook his body, causing his wrists to slice and bleed.

Judging from the past few days, this _child_ now had control of the house and for one reason or another, Ford was gone! This was too good!

Obviously, the boy was an idiot. Here he was, strung like a pig fit for slaughter, bound in chains in a DUNGEON, and yet, he kept coming back. _Dipper_ was a weak-willed fool for doing so and he planned on utilizing every bit of the boy's stupidity.

Bill sobered up, face contorting as he thought through all this new information. The kid must have some over-active guilt complex if he cared so much, and if he played the victim, he should be free in no time. With a grimace, Bill knew that wouldn't be hard. Even now, he felt light-headed.

It was this infernal human body!

Yes, he had relished how easy it was to squish these meatbags under his thumb back in the day, but now he realized just how weak they were. Constantly begging for food or water or air, the simplest cuts drawing blood. It was ridiculous!

While he couldn't use any of his powers directly, it circulated the body enough to keep it alive, but only at the bare minimum of what alive meant. He loathed the fact with all his being, but Ford had bested him.

No matter. With his new overseer, he could still win. Once he escaped, he would track Ford down and tear him LIMB FROM LIMB. Plus, with Dipper's delicious reaction to his suggestive comment, perhaps he could have some _FUN_ too. Ford would be outraged. How delightful.

All he had to do was wait for another visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Two chapters in a row! Although this is mostly because this next week or so might be hectic for me and I wanted to get this posted while I had time.
> 
> What do you guys think? Did I do bill okay?


	6. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially my longest fic yet, awesome!

In his room, Dipper tossed and turned all night, his mind at war. On one hand, he knew that Ford had good reason to treat Bill as he did, but on the other, Ford's methods were completely inhumane! No prisoner should be stuck in that position for years on end, probably no food or water. And winters down there must be cold enough to cause frostbite.

Dipper growled in frustration over his dilemma. It wasn't fair at all, wasn't Bill being captured and contained enough? Maybe his own morals were getting in the way, but then again, maybe Ford's prejudices against Bill had gotten in the way of realizing that what he was doing was wrong. So did this make it okay to treat Bill better?

Mabel had taught him more than just a pearl-stitch and how to tie his shoes. She taught him to be kind and compassionate through example, showed him that logic and hard-fact were no good without a moral compass to keep yourself in check. She was always better than he was at knowing what was the right thing to do, and currently his inner-Mabel was screaming at him that if he just picked up where Ford left off, he would be no better than the Bill that Ford warned him about. No better than a heartless demon.

Morning dawned and Dipper hadn't slept a wink. But he had come to the conclusion that things had to change around here. It wasn't like he was going to let Bill free, but he was doing things his way.

When there was enough light to see by, Dipper got up, determined to get plans in motion. Half-formed ideas of a better living space, meals, a new way of chaining Bill swirled in his mind as he began to pour through Ford's collection of papers and books, looking for anything that might help.

Loose-leaf paper surrounded him as he went through piles of writings, looked for any mention of Bill. There was a lot, giving Dipper the impression that his uncle's hatred of the demon had been bordering on obsession. Still, Dipper was astounded at the great lengths written about Bill's human form, even though most pages concerning Bill were not without descriptions of torture methods, Ford's drawing skills not doing his stomach any favors.

__

_'Blacked out in pain from slashes to abdomen. No great damage to dermis layer.'_

_'Teeth cannot be pulled out. Very bloody affair.'_

_'Eye patch will not move. Attempts – knife, flame, pliers'_

__

At half past nine, Dipper was forced to stop and head out for work, but upon returning he dove right back in.

Finally, just when Dipper had pulled out lanterns and candles when the light had faded too much, he came across a section on bindings and warding sigils. Perfect!

With these, he could extend the chains, therefore letting Bill move about the cellar at his leisure. Sure, it wasn't much, but it was a start.

Reading closer, it stated that the cuffs were ordinary iron, but that the sigils carved on them made them capable of burning Bill's essence if he tried to unlock it, causing enough pain to dissuade an attempt to unlock the mindscape.

Dipper didn't exactly like the sound of that, but he figured Bill shouldn't try to unlock whatever the mindscape was, so it was fine.

With that, it was getting late enough to be early so Dipper headed to the kitchen to eat before going to bed. As the stove heated up, he eyed the collection of soup jars, each about one serving. He briefly entertained the thought of making one for Bill, but in the end decided against it, it was late and the demon was probably asleep. A wave of guilt rose within him, but he firmly shoved it down. He was already doing Bill a huge favor by giving him more freedom.

Nevertheless, once that was done, he could work on other things to improve Bill's treatment.

In town after work the next day, Dipper hesitantly found a shop that specialized in metal works. The man who ran it, McGucket, was a bit eccentric if he had to pick a word. However, he didn't ask any questions when Dipper asked for chains and happily offered various varieties to choose from.

Leaving the shop trying not to look like he was going home to rechain man in his cellar, Dipper made his way quickly back to the house. As he passed the Mystery Shack, he stifled a yelp as Mabel was out on the porch, talking to Wendy.

Desperately wanting to remain hidden, Dipper quietly inched his way along the forest wall, cursing every clink from his armful of chains. When he made it to the slight gap signaling the path to Ford's, he rushed into the foliage and breathed a sigh of relief. He felt bad for avoiding Mabel, and he'd have to stop by the Shack eventually, but he'd rather not have to explain just what he was doing with manacled chains.

In the house and with a screwdriver in hand, Dipper began to carve in sigils on the thick links, making sure to copy the patterns from the paper exactly as shown.

It was tough work, seeing as the screwdriver barely made a scratch, forcing him to go over each line multiple times to make them deep enough. At first, he wasn't sure that it was working, but on the fourth link, the metal fizzled and briefly flashed bright blue. Great! Even though that meant the previous three were wrong.

Going back to chisel out a bit more, he eventually fixed his mistakes and kept working, each burst of blue filling him with the sense of accomplishment. It was too much to do over the course of a day, so when his eyes were drooping and the patterns all seemed to swirl, he reluctantly set down his work then retired to bed.

The following day was much of the same, and so was the next. In the back of his mind throughout the endeavor, Dipper kept hoping that he would come to his senses and decide that this whole plan was ridiculous and that it would be better to leave Bill alone, but it never happened.

* * *

When Dipper finally finished the chains, he was extremely pleased. Each were about six feet long and if he attached them where Bill's original cuffs were, he'd have enough room to lie down.

That evening, Dipper found himself trying to balance a very heavy pile of chains, some pliers, a wrench, and a lantern in his arms while making his way down the cellar stairs. However, he quickly giving up after a slight stumble and made the decision to take two trips. He really didn't want to fall and break his neck.

Entering Bill's chamber, Dipper found the demon in question wide awake, single eye focused on him. He had probably been alerted to his approach by all the clanking the chains were making.

"Hey, Bill..." Dipper started.

The demon merely raised a brow.

"I... I have longer chains so you won't have to be in that position anymore. It looks like it hurts..." Dipper said nervously.

Bill gave him a small smile, voice uncharacteristically quiet. "That's very kind of you."

Dipper narrowed his eyes. "Umm, yeah... I guess I'll get started then."

When Bill nodded, Dipper stepped forward, setting the chains and lantern down. With wrench in hand, he stepped up to Bill, who was watching him with fascination.

Dipper fastened the wrench on the left bolt of the left cuff, unscrewing it with quite a bit of effort. The thing was rusted and dull, not giving him much purchase, but in the end it came out, falling to the ground with a resounding thud. Moving on to the inner bolt, he repeated the motions, this time awkwardly having to brush against Bill to get the job done.

However, when he unscrewed and yanked out the bolt, causing the cuff to fall, Bill's and most of Bill’s body came with it.

Bill howled in pain as his weight was caught entirely by the other wrist.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" Dipper said in alarm. He hadn't meant for that to happen!

Bill stumbled around, trying to stand upright. Instead, he managed to lean most of his weight against the wall, panting at the exertion. When Dipper saw that he was mostly stable, he decided to undo the other cuff first before rechaining him. Making quicker work on the third and fourth bolts, Bill's other hand was allowed to drop.

The demon then stood up completely for approximately a second, staring at Dipper, before promptly collapsing against him.

"Agh!"

Startled, Dipper scrambled to hold onto the unconscious form and maintain his own balance. He supposed if the man hadn't used his legs in all the time he had been here, he should have realized there was no way he could expected them to hold Bill's weight.

Carefully, he positioned the unconscious body on the floor and took a closer look at Bill's wrists. They were bleeding and scabbed, miraculously free of infection. Well, more like supernaturally free. Even then, they must hurt a ton...

Dipper took a quick look at the unmoving figure and made his decision. He ran out of the cellar, quickly going to his room and grabbing gauze and some sterilized alcohol from his extensive medical kit that he had brought up here. It always paid to be prepared.

Going back down, he was relieved that Bill was still unconscious and made steady work properly cleaning and wrapping the wounds. After that was done, he regrettably set about rechaining him. He didn't want to disturb the freshly wrapped wounds, but he couldn't just let Bill walk free about the cellar.

Dipper shuddered, imagining going down to check on Bill, only to be pinned to the wall with no escape, Bill's hands against his throat.

Okay, so chains were a must.

With that in mind, Dipper placed Bill's limp hand in one cuff and locked it. Thankfully, it closed without it being exceedingly tight, leaving space so the wounds would not become irritated. The second hand went in easily too, locking with a decisive click. Dipper pocketed the key and then set about attaching the chains to the wall, using the old cuffs as a place to secure the links.

He assumed Bill wouldn't be strong enough to undo them, seeing how weak his human form looked. Prying the end links open and closing one around each cuff with the pliers was quick work, but now Dipper was alone with an unconscious and newly chained demon.

Weighing the pros and cons of staying, he decided that he might as well wait for Bill to get up and make sure he was alright. He sat down next to the demon and twiddled his thumbs, casting anxious glances every few seconds at his unconscious companion.

Luckily, it wasn't long until Bill's body began to show signs of life. When Bill opened his eye and sat up groggily, he was quick to stiffen, realizing his new orientation.

"Bill?" Dipper asked hesitantly.

"Hnggg..." Bill groaned, scrunching his face. Dipper stood up and moved a few feet, just in case.

"Are you okay?" Dipper asked.

Bill took a second to respond.

"...Yes. Wow, it's been a while since I had to deal with that whole standing deal. Gravity sure is pesky, isn't it?”

Dipper nodded despite not really knowing what he was agreeing to. "Does anything hurt?"

He got a derisive huff in response. "What doesn't? This whole meatsack is falling apart at the seams, but it can't. It just hovers at the edge and it's agony..." Bill's voice tapered off at the end.

Dipper felt awful hearing Bill's pain be described. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Maybe some... food?"

The quiet, almost broken sound in Bill’s voice made Dipper wish he hadn't decided to put off feeding Bill until the chains were in place. Who does that? Wanting to make it right, Dipper nodded and left in search of food. The previous day he had tried his hand at a stew, and he hoped the hearty meat and carrots would be to Bill's liking. Not that he cared what the demon liked, he just didn't want the guy’s first meal in who knows how long to be dissatisfactory.

Heating up one of the jars, he poured it into a wooden bowl and descended once more.

"Pine tree?" was Bill’s first utterance when he was offered the bowl. Dipper frowned in confusion before understanding what Bill was referring to.

"Yeah, it's a pine tree. My sister and I got these bowls at a sale and decided to spruce them up a bit with carvings. Hers has a star."

Bill nodded with a far-off look, then hesitantly reached out for the bowl, arms shaking.

"Uhh, are you sure you'll be able to... ahh, feed yourself?” Dipper asked, avoiding eye contact.

For a split second, Bill's soft features turned into a sneer, but they quickly sagged once more. "You're probably right. Feed me?"

Okay, now Bill's eye had taken on a mischievous twinkle.

"On second thought, you can do it!" Dipper said as he placed the bowl in front of Bill, who now sat cross legged against the wall.

With a wary expression, Bill picked up the bowl, holding the spoon in his fist. Awkwardly, like a child just learning how to use utensils, he scooped up some of the broth and meat and brought it to his mouth.

Dipper watched in suspense as Bill took the bite, taking note how the man's eye widened. Bill swallowed. He then threw the spoon aside and pulled the bowl to his lips, gulping it down. Dipper freaked out. It probably wasn't healthy to eat that fast after not doing so for who knows how long!

Unfortunately, it was too late as Bill had finished, pulling the bowl away and taking a few deep breaths.

"Uhh..." Dipper began, warily watching for signs that Bill was going to throw up.

However, Bill just smiled. "Thanks for the food, Pine Tree! I feel better already."

Dipper nodded slowly. "Great... Well uh, I guess I should be going then."

Bill's eyes widened. "Will you be coming back?"

"Uhh..." Dipper repeated. While he knew he shouldn't make a habit of this, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Mabel echoed in his head, reminding him that Bill couldn't just be expected to magically get better, he was still extremely weak and starved. No matter the fact that he was a demon, Dipper couldn't just leave him like that.

"Yeah, I'll come back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I obviously took some inspiration from the reverse Falls with those chains.
> 
> Happy November guys, I can't believe how fast the year is going. School is killing me, but I'm still trying to set aside time to get this written, don't worry.
> 
> Hope you guys liked it!


	7. Closer

Dipper woke up bright and early the following day. Waiting for the stove to warm up to make a pot of oatmeal for breakfast, he padded around the house, pulling out books at random. There was so much information stored here, and even more outdoors if he had the chance and courage to explore it.

Gravitating back to the kitchen, he cooked and ate his fill, then went over and ladled the rest into a bowl without really thinking. Sure, the demon could live without food, but that didn't mean he should have to.

With the oatmeal and a spoon in hand, Dipper hummed quietly, walking into the cellar and proceeding passageway. As he rounded the corner, Dipper was   
met with a view of Bill curled up in a ball and couldn't help but smile as the sight was oddly endearing. Stepped forward with more confidence than before, the sound caused Bill to wake up, looking around groggily.

When the two made eye contact, Bill's features calmed into a blank face. "Morning, I presume?"

"Yeah. I brought you breakfast."

Bill's eyes lit up and reached out for the bowl. Dipper handed it off to him and watched as Bill began shoveling it into his mouth, not sure if the sight made him happy or nauseous. He had thought it over the night before, and voiced the question he was pretty sure he knew the answer to.

"Ford didn't feed you, did he?"

Trying not to look as ravenous, Bill slowed down enough to answer. "The second he found out I could live without it, he stopped. Not that he fed me much to begin with, it was more suitable as pig slop."

Dipper's mouth drew firmly into a line. Bill smiled.

"But now you're here."

Dipper took in the statement with wide eyes, but managed to shyly smile in return.

"Well, I'm heading off to work now," he said as he felt he had stayed long enough, awkwardly beginning backing away towards the door.

Bill merely waved him off, focusing once more on the food.

Dipper set off for town, his mind going over the whole situation with Bill, who was certainly not what he was expecting after their first meeting and what Ford had said. He wasn't so bad, actually he was kind of pleasant... Dipper smiled.

That night, he was ready to make something new - noodles. Or as Susan Wentworth called it, "Noodle Night Nirvana." God help him...

In the end, Dipper found the ordeal both fun and stressful. The stretching and rolling of the dough was something he was sure Mabel would have loved, and he was excited how the sauce smelled. The recipe yielded a decent heap of thick and flat noodles and was ready to dig in when he paused.

It wasn't like he wasn't going to give some to Bill later, so there was no harm in going down there now, right?

Dipper set down his fork, pondering. Was it really a good idea to get closer to Bill? He was starting to treat the demon like a houseguest instead of a prisoner. Bill was a demon and it was important to remember that... But was eating a meal with him really going to change anything? And he did want kind of want to talk to Bill, hear his side of the story. Not that he didn't believe Ford, just to make sure the facts lined up.

Predictably, Dipper let the more curious side of him win out. Pushing his chair back, he scooped the remaining noodles onto a plate and made his way downstairs. Wanting to make only one trip, it forced him to precariously balance the plates as well as the lantern, but he made it. He'd have to invest in some lighting down here, Jesus.

Bill was lying stretched out on the floor, arms crossed behind his head. He immediately sat up when Dipper approached.

"Hey. Uh, more food?"

Bill gave him a big grin and exaggeratingly made the grabbing motion with his hands. Dipper walked forward and handed Bill the plate. Then, instead of hovering awkwardly like he usually did, he sat down on the packed ground, gingerly setting the lantern between the two.

Bill scrunched his brows. "Am I missing something?"

Dipper blushed, but he hoped it wasn't noticeable in the dim light. "I, uh, just thought that you could use some company..."

Bill continued to stare until finally, "suit yourself."

The two sat and ate, Bill perfectly content and Dipper stiff as a board.

With nothing much to say, as Dipper had lost all confidence about asking Bill some questions, he instead inspected Bill. The demon looked about the same, and although Dipper knew that a handful of meals wasn't going to instantly fix everything, he had hoped to see _some_ difference.

But no, Bill was still grimy and gaunt, clothes hanging off him. Dipper scrunched his nose. Bill had not fared well from Ford's treatment.

"Um. Bill?"

"Yes, Pine Tree?"

Dipper looked away at what he was about to ask.

"When was the last time you had a bath?"

Bill stared at him for a whole five seconds, then devolved into fitful giggles. "Kid, what does this place look like to you, Turkey?"

Dipper looked away. He should have known it was a stupid question.

The demon eventually quieted down in favor of eating, and Dipper noticed that he was taking it a bit slower this time. Dipper was pleased, he hoped it was a sign that the demon wasn't constantly starving anymore. Plus, it gave him more time to observe.

However, when Bill finished, he knew he had no excuse to stay, so he stood up, grabbing their plates. Bill stared at him with an unreadable expression. Just when Dipper was opening the door, Bill's voice made him whip around.

"See you around, Pine Tree."

Dipper didn't turn back, but his lips quirked up into a small smile.

* * *

"Bill, wake up."

Bill made the motions of waking up. _As if this body needed rest_ , he was a dream demon and no form, human or otherwise, could take that away.

"Yes, Pine Tree?" He said, making sure to soften his features before turning around in time to see Pine Tree awkwardly making his way down the stairs. It was clear why when the lantern fully illuminated the scene.

The boy stood there, awkward as ever, by a large wooden tub. A hose was in his hand, snaking through the door and out of sight.

Bill took in the scene in disbelief.

"I want you to take a bath." Dipper said, looking away.

Bill grinned internally. _Oh yes, this would be fun_.

"Oh... Um, okay?" was what he said out loud.

Dipper nodded. "I'm going to go turn on the hose, tug it when the tub is full."

Bill nodded and watched the boy leave. He then set about removing the shredded clothes. They were so bad that the cuffs didn't even impede in taking them off. Body now uncovered, Bill glared at his flesh prison. Ugh, he hated this meatsack. At one point it had been attractive, but with how Ford treated it...

Then again, that didn't mean he wasn't going to use every bit of it. So on second thought... Redressing, he waiting for the water to fill and obediently tugging when it was done.

When Dipper returned, it was with two extra lanterns for light and a soft smile. Bill returned the sentiment. He wished he could roll his eye.

Instead, he proceeded to make an exaggerated show of trying to take off his shirt, getting it stuck on his arms. It had the desired effect as seconds later, Dipper was approaching.

"Do you, um, need help?"

Bill sighed and nodded, knowing he must look pitiful. This was so degrading, but it was having the desired effect.

What startled him, however, was the feeling of the boy setting about removing his clothes. He did it with such gentleness, taking his time to guide Bill's arms out of the sleeves and pull the shirt up over his head. Bill was then offered a hand to be helped up, and afterward, with a hidden smirk Bill took it upon himself to shirk off his bottom garments.

Standing there naked, Bill admired the effect it was having on Dipper, who had immediately redirected his gaze just about anywhere else. This kid was too cute!

"Yeah, um, now get in the tub..." _Ah, he speaks_!

Bill nodded and shakily stepped in, then sat down and made himself comfortable. While the water was cold, it felt amazing. He blamed the human form with all its unnecessary nerve endings. He then felt a hand on his back and was half a second away from snapping said offending appendage when he remembered his role to play. He turned his body to see Dipper with one hand on his back, another holding a bar of soap. Wow, this boy was determined.

Readjusting, Bill made himself relax. When Dipper felt the release of tension, he set about washing Bill, rubbing the soap in careful streaks across his back and arms. While Bill could have easily done everything himself, this was about a thousand times better. He leaned back into Dipper's touch, inordinately pleased when he felt the slight tremor in the boy's hand.

For approximately half an hour, Bill let himself be coddled and groomed. Dipper, who had started off shaking and embarrassed, was now more relaxed as well. Bill hummed in satisfaction over the whole situation. Things were going better and faster than he could have hoped.

When Dipper moved around to wash the front of him and his hair, Bill made sure to look at him dead in the eyes, hoping he looked vulnerable. Disgusting, he was an all-knowing dream demon! He should not be reduced to this! Having to befriend some mere mortal to escape. It wasn't fair!

Pine Tree frowned. "Are you doing okay?"

Bill hoped none of his anger had momentarily came through. Having nothing to say, he merely nodded. Dipper acknowledged this and went to scrub his soapy hands through Bill's hair. The feeling was wonderful and Bill made sure this was known, letting out a small moan. It did the job perfectly, Dipper's face flushing bright pink almost immediately. Bill tried not to giggle. _Stupid meatsacks, it was so easy to make them tick_. It was especially easy with this one.

When the top of Bill' body was complete, Dipper's confidence ran dry, giving him the soap and washcloth to clean himself below the belt. Bill acquiesced, not wanting to push his luck.

Dipper turned away as Bill scrubbed himself raw. He prided himself on his appearance once upon a time, and wanted it back so badly. Unfortunately, this was the best he was going to get at the moment. When he was done, he was disgusted at the water. Dipper handed him a towel.

With another purposely shaky step, Bill got out of the wooden tub, towel clutched to his body.

"What should I wear?" Bill asked.

"Well, no offence but I'm going to burn your old clothes, so until I can get you some, I thought you could wear mine?"

_Ooh, could he help with the burning?_

"Okay, Pine Tree."

Dipper left the room and Bill dried himself off, marveling at the feeling. While his feet were already getting dirty again due to the dusty floor, the rest of him felt amazing.

When Dipper returned with some clothes, Bill handed him the towel then pulled on the offered undergarments and pants. He then wondered how the shirt was to go on when Dipper motioned for a wrist. Seriously, any self-preserving mortal wouldn't just unchain him, right?

Well, apparently this one would, as Dipper hesitantly unlocked the cuffs one at a time so Bill could put on the sleeves. Really, he wanted to admonish the boy over his trusting nature. Sure, Bill wasn't going to attack him, he needed Dipper's trust, but it was an unforgiving world out there and naivety like that would get Pine Tree killed.

Actually, who cares. As long as Dipper wasn’t killed before freeing him.

Finishing the last button, Bill wished he had a mirror. All he needed was a top hat and a tie, then he'd really be back in business.

Nevertheless, he gave Dipper a twirl and flourish. "How do I look, Pine Tree?"

Dipper smiled widely. "Better, much better."

The two stared at each other until Dipper began to fidget. The boy then moved to empty the tub, making a dozen or so trips with a bucket to gradually remove the water before grabbing the whole thing.

Then, with a small wave, he was gone. Bill sighed and sat down, messing with a sleeve. The new fabric felt very constricting after what he was used to. But it also felt... nice. Without much thought put into the action, he smelled the shirt. It was full of Pine Tree's scent, warm and welcoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I wanted to write this chapter since I came up with the fic. I hope it turned out well?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Tea and Cookies

_Well that had certainly been an ordeal_.

Dipper finished putting away the tub in the shed and as promised, went and found a clearing to burn the clothes. The weather was a bit warmer than usual, and looking up, the sky promised summer rains.

Dipper let his gaze wander for a minute, taking in his surroundings. The hazy atmosphere made the whole forest seem much more mysterious than usual, the trees taking on a darker shade of green, fog building up from the condensation in the air. What was past that initial wall of greenery? More of those creatures his uncle had written about? Plants and animals and monsters beyond his wildest imaginings?

Eyes still locked on the trees, Dipper stood up from the pile of clothes and, almost hypnotically, walked towards the forest's threshold. This was probably a bad idea, but it was still light out and he wasn't planning on staying long, just a look around.

With a quick look back, he stepped in. The afternoon heat that had been trapped by the trees combined with the moisture in the air soon had Dipper shirking off his jacket to tie around his waist as he started walking.

Ducking under branches and stepping around patches of poisonous-looking mushrooms, Dipper took in his surroundings with awe. From the outside, the forest was peaceful and ordinary, but inside of it, all the rules of the world seemed to give up. Dipper wished he had a journal and pencils, because he wanted to document every second of his time there.

He could now see why Ford was so enamored with Gravity Falls. On the forest floor, rocks of the oddest geometric formations were being overtaken by moss and flowers oozed cloying odors. The chittering of intelligible voices carried through the wind. This was by far the most amazing place he had ever been in, and it was right outside his doorstep.

Dipper kept walking until he found a small pond. Within it, tiny lily pads that sparkled like gems floated in the water. Eyes wide, he kneeled down on the florets floor and leaned in for a closer look.

He almost didn't notice when the first mosquito landed on him. Nor the following two in favor of trying to touch one of the lily pads.

But even Dipper couldn’t ignore a whole swarm rising up from the sticky air surrounding the pond. He startled back and tried to smack at them when they flew closer, but they were not deterred. The insects clustered upon his arm, bizarrely only his right one, and while Dipper tried in vain, he only managed to kill two or three before they flew off on their own accord, hunger sated.

Looking at the now empty patch of skin already beginning to turn splotchy red in some spaces, Dipper sighed in defeat. The arm was going to itch like hell!

The spell of the forest had been broken. Dipper sighed and got up, trudging back to the house and trying hard not to scratch at his arm.

There, he finished lighting a small fire and watched the clothes char and disintegrate in the setting sun. With that done, he headed inside. As he entered the house, he caught a glance of his right arm and then did a double take.

The bites were much more prominent than that of the average mosquito, nearly red against his pale skin. But that wasn't the part that freaked him out. No, it was the fact that the welts spelled out words, clear as day.

'BATCH OUT FOR WILL'

As he tried to convince himself that it was nonsense, two letters transposed themselves in his mind and it made his blood run cold. Watch out for Bill?

Sure, the demon wasn't perfect, but he wasn't the creature Ford had warned him about, not really, right? Then he frowned as a thought came into being. Bill had really changed a lot since their first meeting. At that time, Bill had been snarky and harsh, he teased and poked, knowing immediately what would set Dipper off. And then it just stopped.

Bill's whole personality mellowed out in the span of a day. He talked casually, compliment his kindness, asked politely for food and his teasing was rare. Dipper's frown was growing by the second, his eyebrows scrunching together in deep thought. Call him crazy, but he was pretty sure people didn't make 180s like that. Especially manipulative, hellbent on getting their way demons.

Dipper thought it over as he paced his living room, trying desperately to avoid the inevitable conclusion. In the end, it was useless. Bill was lying, _had been lying_ this entire time, and it had taken some magical mosquito bites to get it through Dipper's thick head. He couldn't believe he had been so gullible! Who was he kidding, of course Bill was manipulating him. It was all totally a ploy to get free, it was so obvious now!

Who did Bill think he was to mess with him like that? Well he'd never be set free. Ford had been right, Dipper had humanized a demon, started to feel pity and compassion, and look where it got him. He turned bright red in both anger and embarrassment as he thought about the earlier activity he had decided would be good for the demon. He had been _happy_ to do it.

Dipper turned on his heel and stalked out of the house, shutting the door with a bang. Emotions began to well up, predominantly rage. Rage, and betrayal. No matter how much he should have known that the literal _demon_ was just using him, it hurt, and he wasn't really sure why.

Well he just needed to forget about that no-good liar, it was for the best. A shame, after all the work he put into the new chains. Well Bill could enjoy them as he rotted down there.

However, as he was about to kick a tree stump to let out some of his pent-up anger, he saw a person emerge from the forest. Dipper's leg lost momentum mid-swing, and he stumbled instead. What was anyone doing here, especially as it was getting dark?

The question was answered when his name was called out in a voice that he would know anywhere. In the fading light, he could tell that the figure began running towards him and for how long the distance was, Dipper only had a few seconds to process what was happening before Mabel was barreling into him, giving him a giant hug.

"Has it been a week already?" he asked after she let go, not that he wasn't happy to see her of course. Actually, this was just what he needed right now. Simply having Mabel be here with him was already causing his anger to fade.

"Yes, silly. One week exactly."

_Wow, time sure had flown._

"Well, I haven't prepared anything, but you're welcome to come in." Dipper said sheepishly. He should have been paying better attention to the date, he would have made sure to at least tidy up.

Mabel rolled her eyes kindly. "One week and you've already forgotten about me?"

She said it in a joking manner, but Dipper noticed that she looked away when she said it, clueing him in that on some level, it was a legitimate fear.

"Never. I'm just terrible at keeping track of time."

Thankfully, Mabel perked up and they let the moment pass, Mabel entering the house as he held the door open for her. Before entering himself, Dipper surreptitiously untied the jacket form around his waist and put it on to cover the bites. He hoped Mabel wouldn't think the action strange enough to comment on.

Inside, Dipper showed his twin all four rooms, ending in the kitchen. He eyed the cellar. Luckily, Mabel didn't notice, and Dipper tore his gaze away, motioning for her to take a seat.

Nervous once more, Dipper went to his nearly empty pantry. "Would you care for some... buttered toast?"

"Don't tell me you've been living off bread for the past week," Mabel chided.

"No! I've made other food. Just none tonight." Dipper defended.

Mabel shook her head. "What am I going to do with you, brother dearest?"

Dipper chuckled. "Mabel, I'm fine. So is that a yes to the bread?"

For the next hour, the two ate and caught up. It was thankfully Mabel doing most of the talking, and he was happy how happy she sounded.

"And I’ve got a pet pig now!"

Dipper choked on the bite he was swallowing. Only after gulping down his glass of water to clear his throat was he able to speak again.

"Mabel, what do you mean you've got a pig? Do you even know how to take care of one?"

"I mean that a farmer was offering him and I said yes. His name is Waddles, and I love him with all my heart."

Dipper stared, eyes wide, then let out a sigh, putting his hands up placatingly. "Hey, it’s your life. Don't forget to feed him."

"I would _never_!" Mabel said, scandalized, giving him a slap on the arm. (His left one, thankfully.) Nevertheless, she giggled and soon they had resumed their idle chit-chat, moving into the living room after they finished eating.

Sitting on the worn-down but still plush furniture, Dipper tried to contribute to the conversation by talking about his first walk in the forest and his new job. Apparently Mabel knew Candy and Grenda too and that left him able to sit back and listen to her go off on another tangent. It worked out, really. She talked and he listened.

When the clock struck eight, Dipper couldn't help but flinch. He would have been going down to see Bill if not for earlier. He subtly scratched at his arm.

As Mabel's voice lulled for a minute, he took that moment to jump in. It was always good to get a second opinion, right? Playing with a loose thread of the cushion, Dipper tried not to avoid eye-contact as he spoke.

"Mabel, if someone was acting like your friend but it was really because they wanted to use you for something, what would you do?"

Mabel was silent for a bit, thinking it over. "I guess I'd be hurt, and ask them to be honest about it. But if they won't, then they don't deserve whatever they wanted from me. A real friend would know that."

Dipper nodded, taking it in. It made sense.

With that, Dipper gently led the conversation elsewhere, even if it meant a play-by-play of Waddles getting measured for the sweater Mabel was going to be making for him.

As his twin was waved off with a promise that he'd go visit her next time, Dipper closed the door with a soft thud. Even though it wasn't that late, he found himself yawning. Settling down for bed, he thought about Mabel's advice.

Should he confront Bill about it, see what he had to say? Was it best to just pretend that he was none the wiser about Bill, knowing that every time Bill smiled at him, it was a lie? He could just never go back down there, but that was almost immediately thrown out.

Would Bill even care that his actions had hurt Dipper’s feelings? Probably not, why should he?

Well the best Dipper could do was to go down there again, say what he had to say to Bill, and if Bill denied it, well he'd still give him food and stuff, he wasn't _that_ cruel, but he would accept that the demon could never be trusted enough to continue making efforts to befriend.

Rolling on his side, Dipper was still unsure of what he wanted to do. He figured that maybe some time to really think it over was required, he needed to make sure he was making the right choice here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously the BATCH OUT FOR WILL bite is the same one Ford got in the canon, but unlike Ford, Dipper figured it out.
> 
> Look y'all, I love this story and I totally plan to finish it, but finals are coming up as well as other school stuff, so for the next two or three weeks, I won't be posting anything, sorry.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story, I'm so happy how well it's been received, love you guys!


	9. Compromise

"Bill...?"

Lying on the ground, Bill lifted his head and turned to look at the entrance of the room where the door was just beginning to creak open. He scoffed. So Pine Tree finally decided to grace him with his presence after almost a week of silence?

"Yes, Pine Tree?" he said, arms crossed, turning his head to stare back at the ceiling. He didn't want Pine Tree to think he was anything but angry, and he had every right to be! He had been doing a great job as a model prisoner, then the boy decided to just stop coming. It had been driving Bill even more insane than usual trying to pinpoint what exactly he had done wrong.

He sensed Dipper was extremely uncomfortable, his heartbeat was faster than usual and fingers were drumming against fabric, marking a quick, pattering beat. Serves him right.

Bill sighed loudly and sat up, leaning against a wall. He wondered how long he'd have to wait before the kid was ready to spit it out.

"Bill, have you been lying to me?"

Figures. All his work right down the drain.

Bill was sure if he was in his demon form, Dipper would have been begging to take it back by now, pleading and swearing that he never doubted Bill for a second.

In his human form, Bill found himself standing up and walking over to the boy. He wasn't sure what his expression looked like, but it was causing Dipper to cower minutely. Bill would have prided himself at still being able to inspire fear in this form, but he wasn't sure Pine Tree was the best test subject, he was so timid to begin with.

Two feet from the boy, Bill was held back by the chains going taught. To give him credit, Dipper had held his ground.

Bill knew that getting angry was not the right thing to do, but he couldn't help it! What had changed!? It had been going _so well_ , and Pine Tree had to go and ruin it.

Even worse, if Bill hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, he might have even been able to spin around the story. Whatever tipped Dipper off, he could have changed it. Actually, if Dipper had seen through his ploy, what was he doing here, to gloat? It didn't really fit his character.

Still silent, Bill squinted at Dipper. What was going on in that funny little brain of his? He might have lost most of his abilities concerning the minds of others, but he wasn't so reliant on them that he was helpless without. It paid to be prepared.

So, what did Pine Tree want to accomplish by coming down here and tipping Bill off that he knew what was going on, if not to gloat? Well, seeing how Dipper was such a _great guy_...

Bill's eye narrowed. Was this a chance to 'come clean'? What good would that do? However, he did not have much time to theorize, so, throwing caution to the wind, he said what first came to mind. It was such a pain to monitor his speech anyways.

"What tipped you off?" Sue him, he was curious.

Dipper merely pushed up his sleeve, holding the lantern closer to his arm. Looking at his flesh, Bill saw the fading, tell-tale bites of Soothquitoes. Why Dipper was in the forest where those little winged pests resided was beside the point, what mattered was that the worthless insects had ruined his perfectly good plan!

Bill looked up at Dipper's face, which the boy took as a cue to cover his arm once more.

So you _were_ lying?" Pine Tree asked.

Besides the obvious reason of wanting to keep up the charade, Bill was also reluctant to admit anything because it was causing Pine Tree to look at him with such a pained expression, upset and betrayed. Sure, he had wanted to see this exact look on the boy's face when he broke free entirely, perhaps a bit bloodier as well, but right now it was sickening.

He hadn't beaten the kid properly yet, therefore Dipper had no reason to be looking so pitiful! People lie, and surprise, demons do too.

"Yes, Pine Tree, I admit it. I was lying and you lapped it right up. Who in their right mind wouldn't do all in their power to break free, this place is a dump! So does it really surprise you?!"

Dipper frowned and looked around. Well, looked around at what he could see, the place was pitch black beyond the ring of lantern light. Four cozy little walls, a dirt floor, and some chains. Bill had seen fishbowls with more atmosphere.

"But why did you lie?"

Bill looked at him incredulously. Was the boy stupid? How else was he supposed to gain his trust and be set free?

"What did you lie about?" Dipper asked before he could answer the first question.

Bill was tired of all this questioning.

"Well seeing as Ford obviously told you I was a crazy, evil bastard, I acted the opposite. At least I tried to, the whole sanity thing is overrated."

Dipper stayed quiet for a bit, processing the information, before responding. "Bill, I won't be letting you go, but if you stop with this whole charade I, I..."

Bill had had enough.

"You’ll WHAT? Pine Tree? You’ll be my friend? I don't need friends. What I _need_ is to get out of this absolute HELLHOLE!"

Something within him broke.

Bill felt his powers coursing through his veins, dizzying and maddening. It was the first time in years he had gotten angry enough to summon his powers past his human bindings, and it felt _so good_. He hurled all he had at Dipper, sending him flying across the room.

Bill's satisfaction was short-lived as it came back to him why he had begun to refrain from losing control. The cuffs sparked blue, each sigil lighting up in succession from the wall to those on his wrists.

His eyes widened. Fuck.

The metal retaliated fifty times worse, each sigil burning a blinding blue, causing every fiber of his being to burn with it. He screamed for what felt like years, and at the end of it, he went limp, similar to when he blacked out when he was uncuffed, only with so much more pain.

Breathing heavily, he couldn't draw the energy to open his eye. That was okay, the ground was nice. He lived here now. All he needed was a few screaming heads... However, his wandering mind was brought back to the present when Pine Tree's voice rang out.

"Bill!"

He then felt a hand grab his shoulder and was rolled onto his back, the boy's worried face becoming visible through his half-open eyelid. Nope, too much effort right now.

"Oh my god, oh my god. Bill! Bill, wake up, don't die!"

Jeez how dramatic, he wasn't going to die, that would kind of defeat the purpose of immortality, wouldn't it?

The words might not have had an effect on Bill, but warm hands ripping at his shirt definitely did, causing his body to jolt at the unexpected and not entirely unwelcome feeling. The boy's hands, one now pressed where a human heart would normally go, froze.

"Bill?"

"Yeah, yeah, kid. I'm alive. But you can keep up whatever you're doing, I won't stop you."

The hands withdrew immediately. "I thought you were dead, asshole!"

"Not dead, merely in excruciating pain," the demon huffed. However much he wanted to remain on the floor, he managed to sit up. He had an image to uphold.

The boy was still kneeling besides him, lantern between the two. There was no sign of fear on Pine Tree's face, it was all worry and contemplation. Bill gave him a quick glance, up and down. "No offence kid, but why aren't you running for the hills?"

Dipper bit at his lip, not meeting Bill's eye. "If that's the worst you can do, I can handle it. And I meant it earlier, if you're willing to act normal, I won't make this any worse than it has to be and I promise I won't leave you down here to rot. I know that it's not much compared to being set free, but it's the best I can do."

"My version of normal is the stuff of nightmares."

Even with the poor lighting, Bill could see Dipper blanch.

"I'm willing to risk it."

Bill hadn't expected that. Actually, he was really starting to believe this kid would get himself killed one day with all this blind trust. After being lied to, yelled at, and hurled against the wall, Dipper brushed it off and was still offering to play nice. For such a cowardly human, Bill had to admit he was slightly impressed.

"Fine, fine. It's a deal, kid." Bill suddenly said, surprising even himself. He offered his hand to shake and everything. Bill kept his face schooled as Dipper hesitantly accepted, watching as their hands connected. Inside, he frowned a bit at the lack of his signature blue flames. He really missed his old form.

* * *

After the awkward handshake, Dipper wasn't sure what to do. He had taken a total of five days to mull it all over and even now he wasn't truly sure if this was what he wanted. It was just that the compounding guilt that he was neglecting to take care of Bill had been killing him.

He felt worn out. This whole thing was taking its toll on him and for what, being able to see how Bill really acted? Well, honestly, it had gone better than planned. Dipper sighed and got up, giving Bill half a smile - it was the best he could manage. He wanted to believe that this was all going to work out, but really, it seemed like he was just making one bad decision after another.

Walking back into the kitchen, Dipper wondered if asking Bill to be honest would even make a difference, there was no way to tell if Bill would follow through. At least it was a weight off Dipper's conscious that they talked. The ball was in Bill's court now.

The following night, Dipper went down the stairs, bowl of soup in hand. There was tension in the air.

"Pine Tree."

"Bill."

Dipper warily watched the demon, but all he did was motion for the food. Dipper acquiesced, handing him the bowl and spoon before turning to leave.

Bill let him go without a fight.

The proceeding days were much of the same. Dipper hadn't known what to expect, but he wished Bill would talk to him. Since their deal, they had barely spoke two words. He assumed it was because Bill had not taken too kindly to being left alone down there again, so Dipper figured he deserved it. Better than "the stuff of nightmares" or whatever. Maybe Bill had just trying to spook him out.

The silence continued, and Dipper decided it was worse than Bill's false sweetness. Making the trek into the cellar had turned into another chore. Water the plants, check for eggs, give Bill soup. It was good in the fact that there was zero worry of Bill manipulating him through words, but it was also so much lonelier, and that took its toll on Dipper fast. He was used to being half of a pair, and his fears of being alone at the start of this all began to come back.

Thoughts of Bill came and went, and he decided he needed to fill the gap of another person's voice or else he'd go mad. Luckily, Mabel was only a short walk away, and with visits into town and stops at the Mystery Shack, he was able to lessen the affect Bill's cold shoulder was having on him. Mabel always welcomed him enthusiastically, and talking to her never failed to brighten his mood. He also got to know Soos and Wendy better, and he was beginning to consider both of them his friends.

Nothing seemed different when he went down the following Wednesday; it had sprinkled a bit and his hair was damp against his neck as he made the usual descent. Dipper handed Bill the food, chicken and rice this time, and grabbed the old bowl to wash.

"Join me." Bill's voice rang out before Dipper could make it back to the door, more of a command than a request. Dipper froze.

Hesitantly, he turned around to see Bill staring at him with an unreadable expression. Well, he had nothing to lose, so he walked back over to where Bill sat and joined the demon. Sitting down against the wall, Dipper cautiously putting a few feet of space between the two. Bill ate languidly and Dipper did not interrupt. He wouldn't even know what to say. When Bill finished, he set his plate down beside him and turned to face Dipper. For a minute or so, he only stared.

"You aren't like Ford." Bill finally said.

Dipper raised an eyebrow. Two weeks of no conversation and that's how he starts?

"Don't give me that look, it's a not a bad thing. You're kinder, more willing to listen. Of course, the younger version of Stanford was the same, so maybe you two aren't so different."

Dipper still wasn't sure if that was an insult or a compliment, but it was an opening to a question that had been itching at the back of his mind for some time now.

"What happened back then, with Ford?"

Bill smiled, slightly too wide than what would be considered normal. "Ahh, those were the days, Pine Tree."

The demon took in a deep breath.

"You see, I found Fordsie floundering among his peers, he was brighter than all of them put together and they were suffocating him. Obviously I had to reach out, talent like that can't just be wasted. So I offered him a helping hand and gave him what he wanted. Knowledge."

Dipper saw a manic glint in Bill's eye, and the light of the lantern seeming to flare in his presence.

Bill continued. "He was happy to work for me, and I was happy to provide whatever he wanted to know. Ford reveled in it, he built shrines and sewed tapestries of my likeness for all I told him. He worshiped me like I was a god, and I thought I had found the perfect little follower."

"Then, old Sixer just had to decide that his precious morals were worth more than power. We had completed his crowning achievement, a portal to the Nightmare Realm and he shut it off, Pine Tree! We had a deal! You don’t _break_ a deal with Bill Cipher.” He said, voice taking on a chilling edge.

Dipper minutely shrank back, but Bill didn't seem to notice his fear. Or maybe he just didn't care.

"So when Ford broke our deal, I sought after him in vengeance. Breaking a deal gives power to the one it was broken against. Not enough to be fully present in the physical world, but enough to kill him if I could only get close enough, but he had charms and wards on him at all times. And then he came here, and I thought I had the perfect chance. But surprise! He had found some old transfiguration spell that I hadn't even considered a weapon. Who would even think of using it as a binding?"

Bill's expression softened for a second, voice dipping to a sigh. "I taught him too well in some places, he was always so clever..."

His face hardened once more. "But Sixer used his cleverness to betray me, and I've been _stuck_ down here ever since."

Bill crossed his arms and huffed, finishing his rant.

Dipper thought over all that had been said. At least the story lined up enough with Ford's that he didn't doubt Bill was telling the truth. Looking at Bill, who was picking at a loose string on his shirt, Dipper figured he should say something, but was at a loss for words.

Bill filled the silence. "Good talk, Pine Tree. Now get out of here, I need my beauty sleep."

Dipper gave the demon an odd look, but decided it was for the best. Standing up, he grabbed the lantern and plate.

"Goodnight, Bill." He said as he moved to exit the room. Bill had already curled up on the ground, but raised a hand to wave him goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I missed this story. Hopefully now that the craziness of school has died down, I'll be able to go back to my weekly schedule. Hope this chapter was worth the wait.


	10. Settling In

From the point that Bill decided they were back on speaking terms, Dipper did all in his power to go down to Bill's room each day with an open mind and show the demon that he would stick to his word. Bill, for his part, took Dipper's desire for honesty seriously, and it ended up being not unlike Dipper expected when he first found out he would be playing warden to a demon.

This particular demon found it necessary to stare at Dipper for prolonged periods of time and would occasionally threaten him with nightmares and death where the world rained hellfire. He also loved to keep Dipper up at all hours of the night by singing at the top of his lungs, and no matter how soothing Bill's voice was, in that odd echo-y kind of way, he tended to use it for creepy funeral dirges. Combined with the creaking branches outside, it was not conducive to sleep in the least.

Sometimes Bill would try to trip him, and Dipper grumbled at the fact that the lack of light made it very easy to miss seeing Bill's leg sticking out or the chain being subtly laid in front of his feet as Bill took the offered food. On one particular occasion Bill managed to stab his arm with a fork.

Despite the terrible behavior, or perhaps in some part because of it, Dipper worked hard to show that he was willing to make this work because Bill _was_ keeping up his side of the deal. Dipper always brought down food, gave Bill a few blankets to combat the chill that began to settle in during the nights, and was happy to talk if Bill felt like it.

That didn't mean he had to stand for all the shit Bill gave him, which led to something that would make both of them happy – proper lighting. After being tripped once again, causing Dipper to fall and break the lantern, resulting in ten minutes of scrambling around trying to avoid broken glass while putting out a small fire, he had had enough.

After work the following day, Dipper swung by a few stores for the necessary supplies and he marched straight down to Bill when he got home.

The two of them then spent their afternoon mounting kerosene lamps onto the four walls. Bill had to do the hammering since the walls were made of stone and apparently even in a human form, he was much stronger than the average person. Bill had shrugged away that fact, but Dipper wasn't sure how he felt about it. Obviously it meant Bill was getting stronger due to not being starved among other things, but to what end? Dipper was sure that even now, Bill could overpower him if he truly felt like it.

Looking at the demon in question, Dipper found him to be squinting in concentration with two nails held in his mouth, trying to make sure the lamp was centered properly. Not exactly a threatening image. In fact, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

"Hey, don't 'ove duh lantern!" Bill snapped at him between the nails.

"My bad!"

After getting all the lamps mounted, Dipper carefully lit them, and when the last one flickered into existence, the two sat back to admire their (mostly Bill's) handiwork.

What Dipper saw was a bit depressing. The room was as bare as it had always been, but the new illumination made the fact glaringly obvious. From that point on, besides immediately rejecting the occultist and outright horrific items that Bill bargained for, Dipper was willing to provide the demon with more than a few worn out blankets.

Soon, a small collection of pillows and new blankets made their way down to what Dipper had taken to calling 'Bill's room' now that it looked more like a room than a dungeon. Joining the pile of bedding was a small table that hosted two or three books at a time on topics Bill deemed acceptable. His favorites were the historical texts, and he always had something to say about the regions in question, as he'd been witness to nearly all of the rise and fall of humanity's greatest civilizations.

Unfortunately, any time Dipper directly asked what it was like back then, Bill would merely shrug and say with a smile, lashes fluttering, "you know if only I had my powers back Pine Tree, because I would show you the world every night of the week in a heartbeat."

While Dipper knew that freeing Bill was never going to happen, the gleam in the demon's eye whenever he said such things made Dipper believe without a doubt that if Bill were free, he'd tell Dipper anything he would want to know. He figured it was exactly that which blinded Ford to the kind of creature Bill really was, and he couldn't blame him.

Over the next two months, Dipper alternated between exasperation and being unable to hold back a grin because for all that Bill was a pain, he was good company when he wanted to be. Dipper figured it just came with being a demon – malevolent enough to be feared, but charming enough to fool mortals into accepting deals. And he wasn't going to lie, it was thrilling to see both sides.

The routine gradually changed into Dipper coming down twice a day, once in the morning for breakfast and to light the lanterns, and once in the evening to give Bill dinner and to extinguish the lanterns, even though Bill had admitted he didn't actually sleep. Dipper accepted this and compromised, promising that he'd leave the lamps on all night during the weekends.

As the days passed, more often than not, Bill's presence became closer to that of an unwanted houseguest – one with a few annoying habits but generally harmless.

Dipper considered the main factor to be Bill warming up to the idea of playing nice; coupled with the fact that perhaps he had gone too long without any actual communication, Bill seemed to genuinely enjoy Dipper's company, and delighted in their snarky rapports.

The change was slow, but Dipper remembered a time when a successful day was one where he didn't get tripped or have Bill throw food back at him. Now it was when the two could sit together, hours into the night, talking about whatever came to mind.

Dipper was slow to admit it to himself, but he enjoyed the company too.

Almost all of his meals were now taken to be eaten with Bill, sitting side by side on Bill's bird's nest of a bed, a mixture of blankets, pillows, and clothing making up the pile as they talked, or in most cases playfully argued.

One day's conversations centered around cooking, seeing as Bill thought himself an expert. Dipper may not be an expert by any means, but he knew enough to surmise that demon tastes were quite different than human ones. A lot more alcohol and blood it seemed. ( _Pine Tree, why do you cook the chicken? Blood is so much tastier_?) Dipper would say he won, but Bill's smile when his stew consisted of uncooked meat the next meal said otherwise.

"Oh shut up, I only left that small portion raw, the leftovers for the next few days will be cooked."

Another was on how absolutely awful humans were. Bill made strong arguments, critiquing humanity's passionate hatred of one another based on the most trivial differences, their wars over false gods and the refusal to live and let live. Dipper had to agree with most points, but got in a few comments about the generosity and hope and love that humans were capable of as well.

Bill had gone quiet as Dipper spoke, staring him with a dull look in his eye. "Yes, I suppose they are."

* * *

Thursdays were shopping days, and as Dipper made his way out of work and towards the other stores in the crisp September air, he had his mind set on a list of ingredients for supper as well as a new book for Bill.

He was planning to go straight to the general store, but a bored man in the street holding up a sign to the Mattress Prince's Mattress Store caught his attention. Glancing at the store in question, Dipper figured he might as well take a look. It had been going on three months now and he had never gotten around to replacing his mattress.

Inside the store, an employee dressed in medieval attire was happy to show him around, and he got to test out several. While expensive, Dipper hadn't made many big purchases, so he had enough money to afford a nice feather down one. Something else he noticed was that the full-sized beds were priced almost the same as the twin sizes. That and the fact that Dipper figured he had enough space in his room led to him and an employee carting out one full-sized mattress and a simple iron bed frame.

The store was kind enough to provide him with transportation to get his purchases to his house, so after placing the bed pieces onto the waiting wagon, he seated himself next to the driver. Content to sit back and relax, Dipper forgot until they arrived at the Mystery Shack that the road to his house was much too narrow for a wagon.

Dipper sighed as his stuff was unloaded at the Inn, where he had to go ask for Mabel to let her employees help get everything to his house. Luckily, it was a slow day and Mabel allowed Soos and Wendy to go. The two saluted her as they left - Mabel ran a tight ship.

Watching through the window as Wendy and Soos went out to survey the items, Dipper turned to Mabel.

"Sorry I can't stay longer, but I'd rather not leave my bed out in the open where the squirrels can get to it." He said, sheepish that he only came by for a favor.

Mabel waved him off. "It's no problem, bro-bro! It's good to see you. You act like a hermit in that house. Probably doing all sorts of boring science stuff."

Dipper smiled. He had indeed been looking at Ford's notebooks every now and then, what the man had to say was fascinating. "Well, Ford was kinda crazy about that stuff, and his work is pretty interesting."

Mabel laughed. "Look out ladies, this one knows science!"

Dipper shook his head minutely and went in to give his sister a hug. He missed this. After saying goodbye, he went out to meet up with Soos and Wendy.

The two had already agreed that Soos would take the mattress, leaving Dipper and Wendy to each take half of the bed frame, so Dipper only had to grab on before they set off.

Getting to his house, they took the items into his room and Dipper profusely thanked the two, giving both of them lemonade for their troubles. He had started making it when he had found a small lemon tree out back, and it was only him drinking it since he didn't trust Bill with the beverage anymore. (The idiot had tried to pour it in his eye for some godforsaken reason.)

After his friends had left, Dipper set to work moving out his old bed and pushing the new one into place. That combined with the initial walk over made him tired enough to take a quick nap on said new bed, waking up a bit groggy but in time for dinner.

Unfortunately, walking to the kitchen, Dipper realized he had never gotten food for supper, so he and Bill would be eating whatever he could scrounge up, that being cheese and crackers. Down in Bill's room, the two ate in relative silence, Dipper still being not quite awake after his nap. His eyes threatened to shut, and he was barely listening to what Bill had to say on the topic of squirrels or something. He hardly noticed when his body started to slump, pressing up against a soft wall of heat.

"Hey, come on Pine Tree. Don't pass out on me." Dipper vaguely recognized Bill's voice, but couldn't fully comprehend what was being said.

"What?" Dipper slurred, eyes nearly shut.

"Fiiine, never mind, kid. Just don't drool."

Dipper nodded absentmindedly, smiling slightly as he moved around a bit to get comfier. The weight of a blanket was draped on top of him. Bill was so considerate.

* * *

Bill stared down at the insufferable human, now asleep on his lap like a helpless kitten, and sighed. Sensing that the kid was asleep, he took to threading his hands through Pine Tree's hair, wondering how exactly he had gotten himself in such a position.

Back when this whole deal had started and his initial anger had cooled down, he began to notice that the arrangement wasn't half bad. He could still follow through with his original plans and if Pine Tree decided to "like him for who he was" or some other embroidery bullshit fit for grandmothers' pillowcases, that made this whole thing ten times easier.

It was all going well, Pine Tree was becoming attached, and Bill knew full well that once humans were attached they'd allow all kinds of things to slide.

But then Dipper had to go and be the nicest fucking person on the planet. He was given a harsh talking to for stabbing the kid with a fork, whereas Ford had given him bruised ribs for talking back. Despite the glaringly obvious six feet chains, Pine Tree talked to him as an equal, and never hesitated to spend time to talk with him. Pine Tree gave him books and sewed him clothes and would bring him tea in the middle of the night if he yelled loud enough. Pine Tree, _Pine Tree_ , _**Pine Tree**_!

Dipper cried out. Bill hastily let go of the boy's hair that he had unconsciously yanked in his anger. He watched with bated breath as Dipper froze for a second before slowly settling back into sleep.

Bill glared at the human in his lap. He could kill him... Nothing was stopping him from breaking the boy's neck right then and there. If Dipper was missing for long enough, surely someone would investigate, come down here and free him. He could spin some story where Dipper had gone mad and chained him up, that killing him was the only thing he could think of.

Groaning, Bill brought his hands to his face. He couldn't do that. Plus, he had no need for such dramatic and messy actions. Dipper was comfortable enough falling asleep on him, so it had to be only a matter of time before he decided Bill was safe enough to be freed, right? And the victory would be all the sweeter knowing that Dipper willingly let him free, rather than resorting to cheap shots at an unconscious opponent. " _Really, Cipher, you're better than that_."

So there, he would keep up this waiting game. This was a point of pride now, Dipper had to be the one to free him. Then he would spare the boy when he found a way to restart Weirdmageddon, as a consolation prize of course. Bill Cipher would come out the winner, as he always did. Everything was going according to plan...

* * *

Dipper woke up well-rested, probably due to his new mattress, what a good decision on his part. He yawned as he pushed himself up, only to have his bed move beneath him.

"Morning, Pine Tree, sleep well?"

Dipper opened his eyes only to see Bill smirking at him, inches from his face. He launched himself back on impulse. Landing in a heap a few feet away and looking up, he saw Bill pout. "What, no good morning kiss?"

Stumbling back into a standing position and groaning from the rough landing, Dipper tried to made sense of what exactly was happening here.

Bill wasn't helping, he just continued to smirk, casually standing up and stretching. Dipper, still reeling, was about to tentatively apologize for accidentally falling asleep on top of Bill when said demon had other ideas. Quick as a whip, Bill reached out and pulled, sending the two of them toppling back onto the blankets.

One second he was falling, the next he was pressed on top of Bill, with Bill's face dangerously close once again. His brain struggled to keep up.

"Uhh..." Dipper said, having nothing intelligent to add as he began to pull away.

Bill let him, but not without planting an exaggerated kiss to Dipper's cheek.

Now free from Bill's grasp, Dipper took a second to stare at the demon in shocked awe, hand moving up to ghost over his cheek. Then the moment was broken; he came to his senses and registered fact that this was _Bill_ , and the demon now had an insufferably smug look on his face, soaking in Dipper's reaction.

"What was that for?!" Dipper huffed.

Bill's grin wiped away as Dipper spoke, his expression turning blank with a hint of a furrow to his brow. "Nothing, Pine Tree. Forget it."

Dipper stared incredulously. "Bill..."

"I said forget it, Pine Tree."

Dipper sighed and got up, walking to the door. It was no use talking to Bill when he was like this, he was as stubborn as a brick wall. With one more look behind him, Dipper's last glimpse of Bill as he shut the door was of the demon watching him, glare cool and calculating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this wasn't all over the place. I tried to convert that time was passing, and I'd say this chapter spans a little over two months as the two find a good balance? And now that balance gets a bit shaken up, wouldn't you say.
> 
> Also, as I am terrible with technology, I have not figured out how to add pictures, but here is the link to a beautiful fanart by Princesa - 
> 
> https://larvahumana.tumblr.com/image/168445719402
> 
> Thank you guys for reading, it's been great at keeping me motivated!


	11. Frost

As September drew to a close, Bill thankfully mellowed out. The demon still refused to talk about the incident, but Dipper had talked himself into believing it was for the best. Within days, they were able to return to their old rapports, and Bill now slept on Dipper's old bed. Things were going well, and Dipper was able to slip into a comfortable if not predictable routine.

One day in mid-October, with nothing pressing to get done before bed, Dipper found himself in Ford's room. He had been slowly making progress through the piles of boxes and papers, cataloging the different journals and experiment notes for easier access. It was slow work because he often found himself ignoring the sorting in favor of reading all the notes in detail, but he was still nearly a fourth though all that Ford had accumulated. In the room, he grabbed the closest box in the unopened pile and walked back out, sitting on the sofa.

Hoisting what turned out to be a wooden chest onto his lap, Dipper went to open it only to find that there was no latch. Dipper's eyebrows creased as he leaned in for a closer inspection. The chest had no latch or keyhole anywhere, or hinges for that matter. But the box obviously had something in it, confirmed by the rattling following a light shake.

Now this was interesting. Looking at the grandfather clock, it was about seven in the afternoon. With a widening smile, Dipper figured this was just what he needed: a puzzle.

The first thing he did was feel along the sides, trying to find any discrepancies in the wood. There were a few grooves but nothing excessive. He then tried to push and pull the small panels of each side. One area slid more than usual. Gingerly, Dipper pushed at the base around the chest, and one side slid enough for a slot to appear. Looking inside was too dark, so he hesitantly stuck his finger in. Something smooth and metal. He removed his fingers and lightly tilted the box. A key slid out. Wonderful; now if only there was a keyhole.

Dipper slid the panel closed. Feeling proud of himself, he proceeded with cocky vigor. However, it soon waned when an hour had passed and he was no closer to finding the keyhole. Not one to give up, he boiled himself a cup of tea and got back to work. Another two hours and a handful of frustrated groans later, he did it. The same moving base piece could also be moved inward, and from there a decorative panel slid down, revealing the keyhole.

With a rejuvenating burst of excitement, Dipper inserted the key, hearing a small click.

Inside, there was a journal. This one was made of much finer materials than the others, with bright colors of red and gold, an outline of a six-fingered hand taking up most of the space, inscribed with the number one. Setting it aside, there were two more objects within. A jar the size of his fist which contained what seemed to be very vibrantly colored string, as well as a photograph. Dipper picked up the picture. He hadn't seen many photographs in his life, despite hearing about the invention, and was excited to see what it was of.

Even though the image was a nearly gray and blurry monotone, still discernible were two people sitting side by side. Without a doubt, the men were young Stanford and Stanley. Both were dressed up for the occasion, and had on matching smiles, even if they looked a bit strained from how long they were required to hold the pose.

Dipper took the picture and set it on the bookshelf for safekeeping. Coming back, he squinted at the colorful string. The jar was dusty, but the contents sparkled like gems. Mabel would love the stuff to knit with, but for all he knew, it was deadly to the touch. Maybe the journal had something to say.

As it turned out, the new journal had a lot to say. Floating cliffs, mythical creatures, warnings, enchanted forests, unicorns. There was so much here! And unlike the others that Dipper had read through, this one was focused entirely on gravity falls.

From the readings, he learned that the string was unicorn hair, the same stuff used to lock Bill up. Setting the jar aside, Dipper continued to read, and only when the clock chimed one did he think that maybe he should finish up and get ready for bed.

* * *

Over the next month, Dipper went on with his life. He went to work, improved at cooking and sewing, stopped by the Mystery Shack, and remained friendly with Bill. It was hardly registered when he opted to grab a scarf on the way out, or that one day he decided to start collecting wood for the fireplace. He had grown up on a farm, he understood the necessary procedures for when the temperature began to drop. As long as he bundled up, he was fine.

By November, snow had fallen and it was getting harder to walk without slipping on the icy road. The frosty forest branches tugged on his clothes and left him breathless. Dipper now used the fireplace regularly. He had made necessary provisions to keep his chickens healthy and warm, and he really hoped that the fire ants had only gone into hibernation and hadn’t died on his watch. Luckily, the breadcrumbs he sprinkled in occasionally were still disappearing.

He figured he done good in preparations for the full effects of winter until he went down to Bill’s room one night, an extra blanket in hand to combat the dropping temperatures.

The walk down into the cellar made his teeth chatter. The normally chill air now stung the back of his throat. In Bill's room, things were not much better, and he was sure that the blanket was nowhere near enough to help. The lamps put out a bit of heat with the light, but overall it was practically freezing. Good for root storage, not so much for living.

Bill was wrapped up in all his blankets, and only reluctantly got out to get food. Luckily it was warm food, and Bill was pleased to eat as well as wrap the new blanket around himself when Dipper offered.

"B-bill are you okay?" Dipper said, looking over as Bill attempted to eat the food while still staying wrapped in blankets. Bill looked up. "Well you gave me blankets, so it's going to be much better than the frost bite from last winter with Ford. My fingers hurt like hell for a month."

Dipper frowned, looking down into his stew to avoid the onslaught of guilt.

Afterwards, Dipper walked upstairs, relishing each step into the warmth. Wanting to try and make up for the abysmal temperatures and the previous treatment that Bill had gone through, Dipper heated up a pot of water in the kettle, going down to have tea with Bill. Each holding a warm drink, the puffs of their breath and the steaming mugs swirled patterns in the air.

* * *

Going back up once more, Dipper headed to the living room where the fire roared, thoroughly warming him. And then there was Bill, stuck in his freezing cell. It wasn't like he could set a fire down there, there was little ventilation and the smoke would pile up.

Sighing, Dipper resolved to buy some more blankets at the store the next day, as there didn't seem to be much else he could do.

The next days did indeed find Dipper buying more blankets and giving them to Bill. As an offhand comment, Bill said that de-humanizing him would certainly help, as his true form had no nerve endings to feel the cold. Or you know, Dipper could free him and he could fuck off to the West Indies and sip margaritas in the sun.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "No Bill, neither of those things are happening."

"Fine, whatever," Bill huffed.

Going to his room afterwards, Dipper pulled out the red journal that now resided on his bedside table and got under the sheets. Flipping to a random page, he tried to clear his thoughts. What Bill had said was still on his mind, and even if his suggestions weren't possible, it was unfortunate that there was no solution that Dipper could think of to help.

With a slight shake of his head, Dipper tuned out the thoughts and looked down to what page he was supposed to be reading. It was a passage on unicorn hair.

Although he already knew what it said, he read the passage.

 _Unicorn hair is the key ingredient to create a supernatural barrier powerful enough to hold back a being of immense power. If only the creatures were a bit less difficult to work with_.

Dipper drummed his fingers on the page. The barrier could contain such a creature as well. And he already had the hair. A lot, actually.

Dipper's fingers stopped drumming and his eyes widened.

No! He was not going to do something that crazy! There was no telling what would happen! It was completely against everything Ford had told him.

Yet the thought remained. With the extra unicorn hair, it would certainly be possible to create a new barrier, but this time, larger. Bill would still be contained, just in a slightly bigger area, say... the house? And he could set up the hair in such a way that Ford's room would be blocked off, so Bill couldn't access the books.

But what if Bill used the newfound freedom to do something terrible? Dipper chewed at his lip. Was he really prepared to do this for Bill, consequences be damned? Obviously he wanted to do this, the poor guy had been living in a pitch-black dungeon for years on end, no food and terrible company.

Dipper put his head in his hands. He wasn't cut out for all this; how had Ford been fine treating Bill like that? He just wanted his friend to not freeze his fingers off but the memory of Ford was shouting at him to trust no one.

This was a demon who threatened to usher in the apocalypse, and here was Dipper legitimately wondering if he should grant said demon more freedom. This all would have been better if Ford had never shown him Bill's chamber, then he could live in ignorant bliss.

Dipper cut himself off right there. No, it would not have been better in that case. Bill would have been left to rot down there if not for Dipper, and as manipulative and crazy and egotistical as he was, Bill wasn't oozing pure evil, he had some semblance of a conscious and morals. Bill was witty and charming and had only really lashed out when provoked. He was someone who had wedged himself into the cracks of Dipper’s life, and if Bill wanted to destroy the world, he certainly didn't act like he wanted to destroy Dipper.

And maybe that was a deluded thought, to think that because Bill was kind to him meant that he meant something to the demon...

Well, here's the thing, the demon meant something to him.

* * *

Getting home from work the next day, Dipper began his project. For all he had fought with himself, this was his friend and he would do everything he could to make this whole 'prisoner' thing a little less worse.

Taking a closer at the journal, he saw that it wasn't just unicorn hair in the spell. There were some simple items like salt and chicken feathers, but he'd also need something called moonstones as well as Mercury. Well, besides being toxic, he did have a thermometer so that shouldn't be too bad, he'd just wear gloves.

With a little reading up, Dipper decided the Mystery Shack was his best shot at getting moonstones. That place was always bursting with weirdness and anything shiny was sure to draw in customers. Inside, he waved to Soos, who was behind the counter today.

"Hey, Dipper! What brings you here?"

"Uhh, just looking to get some moonstones, Ford has a whole section saying they’re good for um, love?"

"Ooh, Dipper's got a lady friend! Do tell!" Soos chuckled, but also looked extremely interested in what Dipper had to say.

Dipper panicked. He most certainly did not have a lady friend. "Uhh, that's personal."

Soos sighed. "Aww man, if you say so. But don't be too shy to just go for it. When I met my sweetheart, Melody, I was so scared, but now we've been together for two years and I think she's the one."

Dipper couldn't help but smile at Soos's heartwarming tale. While romance wasn't really high on his list, he had to admit that he would like to have what Soos and Melody had.

So with that, Soos pointed him in the direction of the "cosmic gems." The small barrel included mystical gems such as moonstones, sun crystals, and Neptune opals. None were actually labeled, and they all just looked pale and shiny. Sighing, he began digging in the small pile for what Ford had described as a real moonstone. Dipper spent ten or so minutes methodically sorting hard, white quartz from pearly and more flaky untreated moonstones. In the end, he got five moonstones and paid Soos. He was thankful that Mabel wasn't here, she would have pressed much harder about his supposed love-interest.

Back at the house, Dipper crushed the stones into powder out back, and mixed it in an old bowl with the feathers, salt, and liquid beads of mercury. Lastly, he donned gloves to pick up the bundle of unicorn hair and dunk it in the powdery and slightly toxic mixture.

The hair did nothing but glimmer as it always did, so Dipper was unsure of its success. Tentatively, he pulled up a strand and made it into a loop. Immediately, a golden sphere the diameter of the loop sprung into existence. Whoa. So yes, it worked. Dipper let the hair fall; the sphere fizzled out.

As it was time for dinner, Dipper had to put his work on hold and begin reheating some chicken. With the snow, it was at least easier to keep foods fresh longer. Bill had side-eyed him the whole meal and Dipper wondered if Bill was suspicious with how enthusiastic he was acting. Well, he wasn't going to spoil the surprise just yet.

Upstairs after the meal, he began to place the strands, coating each in viscous glue as he laid them end to end around the house along the walls, often having to stop to move the bookshelves to get behind them. Even with all the books taken down, those things were heavy. He started at the front door, and wound his way to the kitchen and past Ford's room. Then he came to his bedroom, and paused.

The reasonable thing to do would be to pass that door as well, blocking Bill from entry. Dipper began to place the strand, then slowed down. But what if Bill really needed to get to him for some reason? Or maybe Bill wanted a book in Dipper’s room and he was at work?

Dipper decided to agree with himself on those perfectly legitimate reasons. So with a bit of effort, he placed the strings along the edges of his room, having to push aside the dresser and bed and bookshelf. It was a pain, but he did it. Back out of his room, he just had to move one more bookshelf and he was home free.

Placing the last string, a golden bubble emerged, stretching up into the ceiling. After a minute or so, it faded. Dipper was sure this was normal, seeing as there was no sign of a bubble surrounding Bill's chambers.

Dipper then looked at the time, and was amazed to see that it was almost five in the morning. Had he really been working that long? He didn't even feel tired.

Thankfully it was Saturday, so no work. With a small "huh," he stood up and prepared for bed, still taken back with how not-tired he felt. This was proven wrong as he slipped into bed, falling asleep in seconds.

Waking up, Dipper hoped it wasn't too late in the day. Looking at the clock, he cringed at the fact that it was almost one in the afternoon. That was sure to mess up his sleep schedule. With a sigh, he got up to make what he supposed would be lunch.

His mood brightened exponentially as he cooked some pancakes for the occasion. He left the food on the kitchen table, and grabbed some bolt cutters before he hurried down the stairs.

Down in Bill's room, Dipper couldn't help but grin despite the goosebumps that were quick to cover his arms. Bill was leaving this place tonight, and he couldn't wait to tell him the news. Bill looked up from his book with a bored expression that quickly turned more quizzical seeing that Dipper lacked the usual two plates of food and instead carried bolt cutters. He sat up a bit straighter on his bed, dragging the blankets around his body.

Dipper let it out in a rush.

"Bill, I know it's not much, but I don't want you to have to freeze down here. So I'm letting you have access to the rest of the house."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is being posted later than usual, the holidays are so hectic! I hope all of you had a wonderful time this winter and that you have a great 2018!
> 
> Puzzle boxes are so fascinating, I watched like 20 videos on different ones. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htIwkr9S41E  
> This is the one that Dipper solved btw if you are interested.
> 
> I hope where I left off wasn't too cruel, this is where things start getting fun!


	12. Break Out

Bill could not believe his ears. Was Pine Tree absolutely insane? Not only was this a bad idea on Dipper's part, the reason for coming to this decision was downright laughable. "I don't want you to have to freeze down here"? Sure kid, whatever lets you sleep at night. The temperature might be colder than your average cellar, but between the blankets and the warm food, he was fine, comfortable even. Okay maybe he had played up the 'I'm freezing' bit more than necessary, but it was adorable seeing Pine Tree bite his lip and apologize so much.

Well! That was enough contemplating, he wasn't going to _tell_ Dipper this was a bad idea.

"Sounds good to me, kid!" And he held out his wrists.

Dipper walked up and positioned the cutters, quickly cutting all but the main cuffs on both arms. Now, what Bill was left with were some very clunky, but still very much binding, bracelets.

Hmph. So Dipper still had some common sense.

Dipper set down the bolt cutters cautiously, not taking his eyes off Bill.

Well it wasn't like he would just attack the kid, there was still the matter of the unicorn hair surrounding the cellar. How the hell was Dipper planning to get rid of that?

"Kid, thanks, but did you even think of what it's going to take to get rid of the barrier surrounding this cellar?"

"What?"

Oh my chaos, this boy was helpless. He rolled his eye. "Watch."

Bill walked up to the wall, and gave it a solid knock. The section shimmered gold.

"These bricks were all made with unicorn hair in the mixture, and my guess is it's in the mortar too, and then there’s the floor and ceiling."

Turning back with a satisfied smirk, Bill watched Dipper's brow furrow, then begin to look around at the walls, frown slowly growing.

Bill wondered if he was realizing to just what lengths his uncle had went to keep Bill contained, and that maybe it was for a reason. Ford was right of course, he had plans for when he got out of here, big plans. He was certain that whatever Pine Tree had done to secure the house was nowhere near as secure as this place, and he should have no problem slipping away when Dipper next left for work. But there was still the problem of getting out of this cellar.

"What if we just took out the bricks?" Dipper asked.

"And bring the whole place down?"

"No, like a line of bricks to break the continuity."

"Won't work. It’s like a sphere, there's millions of diameters that wrap around the whole room. If anything, it would make the barrier shrink inwards, or cut the one barrier into two. Depends on where you tried to remove the bricks."

"Oh..." Dipper's shoulders drooped.

Bill wondered when Pine Tree would give up in trying to conduct a supernatural jailbreak for a demon he knew full-well wanted to destroy the world. He was all for Dipper breaking him out, of course, it was just that his idea was so half-baked he wanted to scream.

Because really, had he just expected to saunter down here, give some cheesy one-liner, and leave with Bill in tow, Bill cooing his thanks and undying devotion?

He had been around the boy long enough to say he was pretty sure the answer was yes. He had too much heart.

Shaking out of his train of thought, Bill took in how Dipper's excitement from a handful of minutes ago had completely left. It was disheartening to see, he preferred the naive optimism and sweet smiles.

"Well, what if we removed all the bricks near the door and then you stood really close to the wall so when the barrier shrinks, you won’t be in it?" Dipper said.

Bill tried to imagine the outcome. With the barrier shrinking, he might just be pulled back with it, making the whole thing for naught. He could also be caught half in half out, which already sounded extremely painful.

But then there was the fact that this could free him.

"Sure, why not kid, I've got nothing to lose. You got a crow bar or something? I’m ready to start swinging."

Dipper looked a bit started that Bill approved of the idea, but quickly snapped out of it.

"Uhh, maybe? Let me go look around."

Then Bill was left in his room that might not be his room much longer. He really needed to find a way to thank Pine Tree once all of this was over. Once again, he was sure the boy would look dashing as a servant to him after Weirdmageddon. Feeding him grapes, calling him Sir and Master as he earned a place by Bill's side. Not that he had a running fantasy of such a thing.

Dipper came back a few minutes later with two hammers. "No crowbars, sorry. But these looked strong enough."

Bill smiled widely. Let the fun begin!

Smashing apart the front wall was indeed extremely amusing. It had been too long since he got to cause destruction on any scale. With large and powerful swings, chips of brick went flying and he was having a blast. Until he realized he couldn't move.

Unable to look down, he assumed the bricks that had fallen started to cast their own little barrier that his legs had gotten stuck in. And apparently it immobilized his whole body. Not painful though, that was nice.

"A little help here?" He managed to get out, dizzy from the effort.

Bill saw from the corner of his eye, Dipper stepping up to grab the nearest brick chunks, pulling them away. The golden bubble faded and Bill kicked the rest away. He resumed swinging with a large grin and a big wink towards Dipper.

Pausing to catch his breath after the next handful of steady strokes, he turned again to make sure Pine Tree was taking this all in. Well, he was, but the boy was staring at him nervously. Bill's eyebrows drew in as he glanced back at his progress.

Oh. He had turned the front wall nearly into rubble in a few minutes. Bill's smile dropped. He had scared the kid. No! He didn't want Dipper afraid of him. Okay, maybe a little. But more in a way that caused awe and reverence. Instead, Dipper just looked mildly sick.

"Uh. Well that was most of it. Want to finish up the last bits and I'll go stand by the wall?"

Now Bill was the one talking sheepishly. He hoped that his lack of restraint hadn't caused Dipper to give up on this plan. Although really, at this point Bill might be able to escape whether Dipper wanted him to or not.

Luckily, it didn't come to that as Dipper nodded and moved towards the wall, hammering at the spots Bill had missed. That boy really needed some upper arm strength.

Bill watched apprehensively from the wall, his back pressing into the chipped remains as much as possible. This went on for nearly half an hour as Dipper chipped away at fresh areas, and Bill could sense the barrier trembling. Any second now he could be free!

The snap of the barrier coming undone as one more chunk of brick fell was deafening, at least to him. In a matter of milliseconds, the bubble became visible and opened up, Bill was hardly able to account for all his limbs on the right side when the barrier reclosed just past where he stood.

So that was it. He was free.

* * *

Dipper breathed heavily as he looked around at the rubble. He had caused this. This was all his fault. Of course, Bill was just standing there right now, but what guarantee did he have that Bill would play nice? None, there were no guarantees.

Bill had gotten through the wall with only partly freed hands and a hammer. Sure, he had been the one to actually collapse the barrier, but Bill could have done it without him. And the ring of hairs surrounding the house? Laughable. What had he been thinking?

Dipper glanced around the room once more, his eyes roving across the chunks of rubble that surrounded them. Some areas flickered with small barriers of golden energy.

Turning to look at Bill, he tried to grin.

"Okay, so you're out. Let me just get over to you, then we’ll head upstairs."

Bill nodded, "Of course."

Dipper walked over slowly, stepping around the large chunks of debris. Unlike Bill, he stepped easily in and out of the spans of gold. He met Bill at the door, who held out an arm for Dipper to link. Dipper did.

He took one last look back, and the two walked up with stairs, acting as if everything was alright even if his feet felt like lead, weighed down by the guilt of what he might have just done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a hard time with the ending of this chapter. But here we are, so I hope it's acceptable. Thanks for reading!


	13. Stay

At a steady pace, Dipper and Bill made their way out of the room and into the main cellar. Dipper hesitantly shrugged his arm free as they exited to push the crate door closed; he had been leaving it open for a while now, but he supposed he had no reason to go back there now. Bill stayed quiet as he did so, his stance relaxed. Dipper's was the opposite.

Dipper didn't relink their arms as they moved towards the stairway, keeping his own stiffly at his sides, but Bill didn't object. The blood was pounding in his ears as they climbed the handful of stairs, wood creaking under their combined weights.

At the top, Dipper saw no way to go back. Steeling himself, with a determined push he opened the panel above his head and stepped into the kitchen. Bill followed.

Turning to look at the demon, Dipper saw Bill nearly stumble, caught off guard by the crisp, winter sunlight streaming in from the windows. Sure, the lamps in the cellar had given off light, but it was hardly a substitute for the real thing. Bill stopped moving and blinked rapidly in an attempt to adjust, face contorting in discomfort.

This gave Dipper time to take in the actual sight of Bill, not the faint and dim outlines from a couple of oil lamps. The demon's complexion in the afternoon sun was a light tawny brown, and his hair a vibrant corn-yellow that most lost as they aged. It grew in choppy, unkempt waves surrounding his head, and he was in desperate need of a proper haircut. His eye patch was the blackest black that Dipper had experienced, seeming to suck in the light around it, and his ill-fitting clothes were covered in a light layer of dirt.

Bill was, for lack of a better word, quite handsome.

Dipper stared at the man in front of him until Bill finished adjusting, which had taken quite a while. For a handful of seconds, Dipper felt the horror of his decision leave him - being alone and in complete darkness for years on end sounded unimaginable, and it made him angry that Ford had deemed it a proper way to keep Bill.

His was broken out of his reverie by Bill's voice, only catching the tail-end at the last moment.

"-not exactly what I had pictured."

Dipper nodded, hoping it was a suitable response, as he kept staring at the demon, fear at what would happen now returning.

So, Bill was practically free. All that remained was a thin line of hair and some cuffs. Nothing a hammer or another similar tool couldn't handle. With that dismal thought, he dropped his gaze to sweep around the room, landing on the kitchen table. Oh yeah.

Trudging over, he looked mournfully at the pretty stack of pancakes, now stone cold and probably rock hard. His pancakes never fared well if they weren't eaten immediately. With a sigh he picked up the plate and made his way to the garbage, dumping the whole stack. He wasn’t hungry anyways.

"Hey, Pine Tree. They’re just pancakes." Bill interrupted, now inspecting his nails.

Dipper barely heard. He wanted to break down. He wanted to cry and lash out and have Bill promise that everything would be alright, that he wouldn't try to escape and take over the world. But that wouldn't happen. Realistically, as soon as his back was turned, Dipper would find himself out cold while Bill fled into the woods, never to be seen again.

And the worst thing was, it was all his fault. There was no trickery on Bill's part, it was Dipper's decision through and through. What had he been thinking? Oh right, that he cared about Bill and didn't want him cold. It seemed now that the guilt was a small price to pay in comparison with the guilt of being the one to start the apocalypse. But it was too late for that.

He heard footsteps behind him and tensed. Bill poked his arm.

"Kid, seriously. I'll make you another batch if you're this torn up about it. And your pancakes aren't even that good so it's not that big a loss."

Dipper struggled to rein in the tears threatening to spill; he hadn't realized but he had ended up leaning up against the countertop for support, and was biting his lip hard enough that the coppery tang of blood was present.

He nodded at Bill when his words finally registered. Let him think this was all about pancakes.

"Great! You just sit your pretty ass down and I'll get started."

Dipper had no fight in him to do more than flush at the comment, so with a slow, deep breath, he straightened up and moved to the table. Sitting at a chair which let him keep Bill in full view, Dipper tried to calm down. He needed to be fully in possession of his faculties if Bill tried anything.

Bill hadn't been lying all those days ago when he bragged about being a much better chef. He whirled through the kitchen like a tornado, pulling out ingredients and bowls and wood to light the stove. Dipper was tempted to point out where stuff was, but he had no idea what Bill was looking for at any given moment and he didn't want to interrupt.

Within minutes it seemed, Bill was pouring big dollops into the pan and the stack of finished pancakes was growing. In no time at all, Bill grabbed two plates and silverware, set them down in front of Dipper and across from him, and brought over the fruit of his labor.

The smell was light and aromatic, and since Dipper was ninety percent sure they weren't poisoned, he took one and dug in. The taste and texture were far better than anything he had created, so with gusto he finished the whole thing along with a second.

Bill smirked at him like a cat who got the canary, cutting his pancake carefully with a knife before taking small, measured bites. Dipper attempted to stare back at him. He had never noticed before, but Bill's iris was black with flakes of gold. He seemed to have an innate color theme going, and it made Dipper wonder briefly about his true form. Something primordial and demonic, dark as an abyss with enough glitter to make you jump over the edge.

He dwelled on this detail for a few moments before realizing that Bill's smirk was still trained on him. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Bill's satisfaction at besting him at cooking. It was just like old times, and minutely, the worry gnawing at him receded.

When they both grew full and ate their last bites, Dipper took the dishes and set them in the sink to be washed later. Turning back to Bill, the demon was shaking the pepper shaker, getting flakes all over the table.

"Bill, come on." Dipper said, exasperated.

"What?" Bill said innocently, but set the shaker down.

Dipper just shook his head at Bill's antics and turned back to the sink, hands moving to fiddle with the dish towel draped across the edge. Smoothing it out and slightly shifting it, he wondered how to go on from here. He hadn't really thought this through.

"Riiight. Well there's still time left in the day, so I think I'm going to read a book," Bill said. "I'll be over here."

And just like that, Bill walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Dipper's mouth opened and closed a few times before he settled on "Hey!" then took off after him.

He found Bill perfectly still in front of the bookshelf, eye scanning the covers, hands on his hips. With a whip-like movement, he snatched out a book and promptly dove onto the sofa, making himself comfortable, legs resting on the arms of the piece.

Dipper just stood in the doorway for a couple more seconds, adrenaline still pumping through his system at the half-formed terror from Bill running off like that. With a sigh that let out at least some of his tension, and not knowing what else to do, Dipper grabbed a book for himself and sat down on the armchair.

For an hour or so, Dipper spent his time divided between trying to read, staring at Bill in case he made any sudden movements, and panicking over all the possibilities that the situation could unfold into.

He was particularly worried for when it came time to sleep, seeing as Bill didn't. Dipper would have to sleep eventually, and he also had a job and responsibilities outside of the house. Sooner or later Bill would be left unguarded and Dipper had no way to get around this fact.

Stealing a glance at Bill, Dipper only saw the demon reading his book with his tongue slightly sticking out in concentration. Maybe if he pretended to fall asleep, he could catch Bill trying to escape and then… well then he'd have a problem but at least he'd know where Bill stood.

When the sun began to set, Dipper had to go feed the chickens. So, as fast as possible, he threw on some layers of coats, ran out to throw in the food haphazardly, and arrived back breathless to Bill, who was still on the sofa, not having move an inch. Dipper tugged off the clothes and sat back in the chair, sighing as he picked up the book. This was going to be a long, stressful night.

* * *

The hours and minutes and seconds crawled by and Bill was having a hard time containing his excitement. How he desperately wanted to leave. While inspecting the bookshelf earlier, he had easily spotted the thick glue holding down the hairs, and the whole line was visible weaving around the house. He couldn't do much now, but it was only a matter of time before Pine Tree fell asleep. In the mean time, Bill could feel Dipper's eyes on him every few minutes. So that's how it was going to be.

The two ate dinner together, and Bill made sure to keep the casualness in his voice as they bantered back and forth over leftover chicken. Dipper, so tense at the beginning of the day seemed less so, but the coldness in his eyes remained. The tentative trust the two had built was now hanging on by a thread, and Bill almost felt bad being the one who'd break it.

Back in the living room, the sun set, lighting the room up with fiery yellows and reds for a time. Dipper lit the lamps and Bill stared at the page in front of him. He hadn't read a word all day, just flipped pages occasionally to keep up the facade. He was too excited to focus.

Dipper was a constant presence in the arm chair, and didn't look like he was going to sleep any time soon. But no matter, he had waited this long.

Not until the clock was chiming three in the morning did Dipper begin to radiate tiredness. Bill could feel the sleep coming down, and wished he had his full powers back to egg it on. At this point he could really only sense the vaguest auras of tiredness and sleep, and nightmares still had that sticky, too sweet scent. He might have gotten his magic twisted out and molded to trap him in this human form, but being a dream demon, being aware of those things was a part of him before any other magic, and that made it hard to chain.

Around four, Dipper looked asleep, but nothing had changed regarding his dreamscape. Bill narrowed his eyes. He kept waiting.

Nothing happened until nearly five in the morning, when Dipper collapsed minutely, head lolling to one side. The pleasant, cool blue of first falling asleep covered Dipper's mind and Bill smiled. Now the fun started. 

He sprang up, and was immediately annoyed at the soft thump his feet made on the floor. Walking was such an inconvenience, but that wasn't going to stop him. Getting barely ten feet away from Dipper, he couldn't sense his sleep anymore. Turning back in alarm, the boy was most certainly not awake. He stepped closer and the blue tugged at the outer edges of his mind. It seemed he only had a few feet of space where he could feel anything. That made sense, he'd never been able to sense Dipper sleeping when the boy was in the house.

Finished contemplating the finer workings of his power's limits, it was back to business.

First thing first was to break the handcuffs. Surely Pine Tree kept the keys somewhere obvious. Padding around quietly in the dim house since the lamps were radiating only the barest of light, he poked around the kitchen and near the cellar entrance. He then made his way to Pine Tree's room, left free for him to enter. Nothing.

The last door was blocked to him. Taking down the barrier would have to be first then. Going back into the living room, he headed for the fire. It was right near Dipper, but that was no problem since the kid looked completely out of it. Bill paused for a second to admire the sleeping figure, remembering a time where he carded his hands through the soft hair for the night, content with a few hours of peace.

Back to the matter at hand, he walked past Dipper, whose sleep remained uninterrupted, and grabbed a fire poker. That should do the trick.

He then went up to the bookshelf nearest the closed door, and knelt down to the glue and hair by its base. With the poker, he gave the glue a prod, then another. He kept this up directed at only a few inches of the barrier, wanting to be as obscure as possible. Finally, the poker unhinged the glue along the length of space he had worked on, and all that was left was to cut the strand of hair and displace it to break the circle.

Putting the poker back was just as easy as taking it out, and soon Bill had a large knife in hand, walking up to finish his work. With precise movements, he sawed back and forth at the hair, having to first break through the glue. He kept his hands as far back as possible, not wanting to trigger the golden glow should he accidentally touch the invisible bubble.

When he got through the layers, the strip then should be able to be moved up and down like a flap, a single weak point that was practically undetectable unless you knew what to look for. All he needed was something to hold it out of the way. Grabbing a decorative piece of quartz off the bookshelf, he placed it on the ground and nudged it closer to the edge of the barrier. He then lifted up the unhinged piece of glue with the knife, prodding the quartz one final time to stop the two pieces of barrier from connecting, and the circle was broken. He hoped.

With a tentative hand, he reached for the doorknob. If it was not the case, the whole area could be glowing gold, waking Dipper, and he'd have to explain himself. Maybe he should put the knife back first.

After doing so, he walked up to the door once more, imaginary music swelling to a crescendo in his mind. He reached out.

His hand passed over.

A dark smile marred his face and he opened the door, lithely stepping into the room.

The first detail noticed was that there were so many books. Picking one up, he saw that it was a journal, filled cover to cover with Ford's pristine writing. A second look around the room revealed a bed under even more books and some boxes. So this was Ford's old room. How he wanted to rip and destroy and burn everything in here to the ground.

Closing the book harder than he should have seeing as he wanted to stay quiet, he set it down and he began to comb the room for the key. It didn't take long. On the bedside table, nearly obscured by lose paper and more books, the small piece of metal rested innocently. Bill picked it up.

At that moment, the wind howled and a low roll of thunder echoed throughout the room, making his hackles rise. He fumbled with the key, nearly dropping it. With a widening eye, he quickly stumbled towards the exit, key in hand, to go make sure Dipper hadn't woken up.

Stepping hastily around the clutter littering the floor, he poked his head out and looked out into the living room. Dipper's outline was still there, and he was still asleep. The beginning patters of rain began.

Bill stared at the small figure. He wanted to feel anger. Pine Tree was the reason that he was sneaking around in the dark, jumping at ever sound. The reason he waited the whole day away when he could have broken free a thousand times before now. The reason he was frozen in place, key clutched in his hand.

The sound of water pattering on the roof was quickly replaced by sharper sounds. Bill dragged his gaze away from Dipper to glance at the window. It was hail, not rain. Bill frowned. In this body, he'd be miserable out there.

It all came down to this human form, really. The handcuffs only hurt him if he tried to access his magic, they weren't actually blocking anything. What was left after the transfiguration spell was only the tiniest drops of magic still in his system, barely enough to send one human flying ten feet. Pitiful.

On the other hand, if he stayed, there was a chance the answer to unlocking his true form was in one of Ford's books, which would be much easier than contacting those shady sorcerers in Ireland. Those bastards wouldn't take him seriously at all even if he got to them.

Bill considered his position carefully. He would stay, get his old body back, and then he'd kiss this place goodbye. It would take a week, tops. Besides, he could escape anytime he wanted if he really needed to, there was no real way Dipper could trap him again.

With a satisfied nod, he made up his mind. Pulling away from the doorway, he walked back to the bedside table. Bill lifted up the key in his hand and stared at it, stared at what he was giving up. But no, this wasn’t giving up. This was upping the ante. Why be free and weak now when he could be free and at full power by waiting just a little bit longer? That was enough to let the key drop onto the table.

Carefully pulling his makeshift quartz doorstop away from the circle on his way out, the golden barrier flickered back into existence. It was indeed very bright, lighting the room in a warm honey glow.

Making his way to the sofa, Bill laid down, folding his hands over his stomach as he stared at the ceiling. The glow of the barrier faded after a few more seconds, plunging the room into darkness.

He resolutely did not look over at the occupied armchair, but the wisps of blue sleep along with the battering of hail kept him company for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I really ended up liking this chapter, it was going like ten different ways but I'm happy how it turned out in the end. I hope you guys liked it too. I'm trying to do more Bill POV and I think it's working?
> 
> Well thanks for reading, this story has been super fun so far and I've still got more planned.


	14. Home Sweet Home (Don't Burn it Down)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm still here. Sorry about the late update, school started again and I pushed the fic aside. Life, ya know?
> 
> Princesa wanted me to say hello to PeppermintCane, so hello PeppermintCane from me and Princesa.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dipper woke with a crick in his neck and a disorienting sense of apprehension. Opening his eyes, the living room ceiling with the small, bronze chandelier came into view. Dipper's brow knit together, and he continued to stare uncomprehendingly as light bounced off the burnished metal. _What?_

Then, the events of the night before came rushing back.

Jerking up, he nearly fell off the armchair, but that didn't matter because there on the sofa was Bill. Dipper's breath caught in his throat and he stared. Was this really happening? Had Bill actually stayed?

"Bill?"

Even though his voice was croaky with sleep, it caught the other man's attention. Bill, who had been lying prone, immediately burst to life as he turned on his side to face Dipper with a smile.

"Oh, hey Pine Tree! Good morning! I don't actually know when you leave for work but hopefully it's after one in the afternoon."

_What_?! Dipper looked over at the clock in horror and saw that it was indeed a few minutes past one.

"I've got to go!"

And with that, he sprang out of the seat and to the door, dragging on his boots and coats, not bothering to change clothes since they were technically not sleep clothes, he had just fallen asleep in his day clothes and they were only a bit wrinkled.

"Bye, Bill!"

Then the door was slamming behind him and he was shuffling along as fast as possible on the icy dirt road, mind too preoccupied with beating himself up over sleeping in to think of much else. His internal clock was usually much better than this.

Getting into town and into the shop, he found Candy and Grenda measuring up a stocky man. They were both busy enough that they only had time to give him an angry glower, but it was enough to make him hang his head in shame and go to the back of the shop.

The back room had been his main workspace since about the time he began working there. Most people preferred the two women to measure them, and Dipper wasn't sure if it was the fact that he was a man, or that his people skills were atrocious. Most likely a mixture of the two. But that was okay, he preferred working with numbers and lifeless pieces of cloth. He was getting much better at sewing if he did say so himself.

After depositing his winter gear on the metal coat rack, he headed towards the far right corner and sat down in front of the mannequin frame he'd been working on for the past week. It held a simple dress and shawl, which was one of the first full outfits the girls had trusted him with. Not too long ago, they had hardly allowed him to repair a torn elbow patch.

After assessing his work, he picked up the left sleeve that he had cut out the day before, overlaying it on the arm hole. Grabbing the pins resting on the rickety wooden table to his left, he began pinning up the fabric.

It was peaceful work, and Dipper was grateful for it. He wondered if he would keep this job after Stan and Ford came back. If he did, he'd have to get a house in Gravity Falls. Or would Mabel want to move back to California? That would be okay too...

As he worked, his mind trailed to Bill, as it often did these days. This had to be the best possible outcome, and he couldn't hold back the childish grin that lit up his face as he recalled Bill's excitement over him waking up. He couldn't fault Bill for not waking him, it was true Dipper never really talked about his work schedule.

He then recalled the last time he had woken up with Bill. A blush spread all the way to his ears and he nearly drew blood with a miscalculated jab of the pin into the fabric. At this point, it had happened enough times that he just shook it off and resumed his work.

But the thought remained. Bill had let him sleep sprawled against him, and then kissed his cheek in the morning. The whole experience had been so unbelievable he sometimes thought he'd make it all up. Bill certainly seemed to regret the whole thing, he had been given the cold shoulder for like a week afterwards. Dipper couldn't bring himself to feel the same. Sure, it had been incredibly awkward, but some part of him held on to the memory. It had been such a large show of Bill's affection and kindness, so far away from the demon he knew he was, that he couldn't let it go.

After the pinning was complete, he moved towards the bulky sewing machine in the back of the room. While using it always felt like he was going to lose a finger, it neatly stitched fabric together in seconds, so he didn't complain. He wasn't exactly close to finishing when his shift ended, but the guilt of coming in so late caused him to stay long enough to complete the ensemble.

As he left, he apologized to Candy, and she just waved him away.

"It happens. Besides, Grenda and I laughed at how sad you looked."

Dipper grumbled a bit at their apparent sense of humor, but smiled and thanked her nonetheless.

Walking home, he stopped by Lazy Susan's restaurant where he picked up a cooked chicken. It was getting harder and harder to kill his own, they all had names now and that just seemed cruel. So instead he sold the eggs and was content to buy either chicken cuts to cook or the whole finished product when he was feeling lazy.

Susan was also pleasant to talk to, she was happy to give him advice on how to raise chickens in the Oregon frost, and was always sweet on him when he stopped by. Last time he had gotten to sample three of the new pies she was working on. They were all delicious, he might add.

Heading home with the chicken, his thoughts were not allowed to wander, instead having to concentrate on not falling and breaking his neck, seeing as snow had started to fall. Light at first, by time he arrived back at the house he felt like he was going to be knocked flat on his back by every flurry.

At the house, he unlocked the door with an immense sigh of relief. Setting the food on the small table next to the door, he pulled off his shoes and hung his watery and frozen coat on the rack. He bit his lip at the puddle of water already beginning to form underneath.

"Pine Tree, welcome back!" Bill's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Hi, Bill. I'll be right over." Dipper called back, then proceeded to make his way to Ford's room. Wandering into the small closet inside, he grabbed a ragged towel to place underneath the drips and called it good.

Making his way into the kitchen, excited to warm up with the food, he was met with the sight of Bill at the table, cards arranged for Solitaire.

"Pine Tree. How was work?" Bill asked, although his eye didn't leave the cards. He flipped a new one over and began to rapidly shift the cards around.

Dipper watched with fascination as Bill put cards into place one after another, turning new ones over as needed. Eventually, he remembered he'd been asked a question.

"It was fine. Uh, I have food."

Bill looked up at him at that point. "Great!"

Bill swept the deck into his hand, miraculously not spilling them all onto the floor.

Dipper walked to the table and took out the chicken from the thin cloth wrapping.

The two ate in companionable silence, and Dipper couldn't tear his eyes off of Bill. Bill, who was still here, Bill who seemed so much more energetic since leaving the cellar. With large sweeps of his arm, the demon's eye shone with glee as he told of his past adventures that Dipper had long ago assumed were grossly exaggerated. Dipper was sure this one was interesting, but not much of it was getting through to him as he paid more attention to the movement of Bill's arms and his cocky smirk. Something about a pharaoh?

At the end of the meal, Dipper stood up to place the dishes in the sink, but Bill held on to his and stood up himself.

"I can handle washing my own dishes, Pine Tree. No need to coddle me anymore."

Dipper's outstretched hand to take Bill's plate awkwardly fell to his side. "Oh, of course. Sorry."

The two walked over to the sink and scrubbed side by side. The water had yet to freeze the pipes, but it had to be close - it felt like plunging his hands straight into snow. Dipper's fingers were numb by the end, and he quickly rubbed them together to relieve some of the discomfort.

"Chaos, that water was as cold as the endless void of space. Let's go to the fire!"

Then Bill was grabbing his arm, causing Dipper to stumble as they made their way to the fireplace.

After taking wood from the adjacent pile and placing it into the fireplace along with a handful of woodchips, Dipper grabbed the set of matches.

"Can I do it?" Bill asked, wide eye trained on the small box in Dipper's hands.

"Uhh... Sure..." Dipper said, handing over the box and wondering how fast he'd be able to hypothetically put out a fire.

"Thanks, Pine Tree!"

With clear excitement, Bill handled the matches with ease, striking three at once and placing them in different spots on the wood pile. Leaning in closer to the fire, Bill blew on the small flames which took quickly to the woodchips and settled on the larger pieces of wood.

Dipper’s apprehension dissipated, and his tightened jaw relaxed. Bill handed the box of matches back with a proud smile, then stood up.

Dipper's head swiveled up, "Where are you going?"

"To get some blankets, or did you take all the ones you had down to the cellar or something?"

Dipper stared blankly. Besides the few in his bedroom, the rest of the blankets in the house were indeed down in the cellar.

"I thought so. Be a dear and get them, will you? I don't feel like hopping through that minefield."

Dipper opened his mouth to argue, but then decided that it probably would be a good idea to take the stuff out of the now ruined hidden room. So with a sigh, he got up and walked away from the warmth of the fire and into the kitchen.

The cellar was just as freezing as he remembered, and he took as little time as possible to awkwardly pick up and balance the heap of blankets while still holding on to the lantern before booking it out of there.

"Here's your blanket." Dipper said, throwing a green patched quilt at the back of Bill's head.

It was a direct hit and Dipper smirked as he placed the rest of the blankets on the sofa.

"No fair, Pine Tree." Bill whined as he turned to look at the perpetrator, pulling the blanket off his head. The static caused his hair to trail after the blanket.

Dipper gave him a smile and a shrug. "All's fair in love and war."

"You won't be saying that when I'm done with you." Bill proclaimed with a glare as he simultaneously wrapped himself in the blanket, tossing the final end over his shoulder dramatically.

Dipper wanted to laugh at the sight. Well, maybe laugh wasn't the right word. He mostly wanted to smile and keep staring.

"Come on Bill, I gave you the blanket. Let's call it a truce." He said gravely.

"...Deal. But you're on thin ice, Pine Tree."

Dipper smiled at the agreement and grabbed a blanket to wrap around himself. With the baby blue fabric resting on his shoulders, he moved towards the fire and next to Bill on the living room floor.

Bill had turned his gaze into the fire, and Dipper watched his companion's face glow in the flickering, red light. He was on Bill's right, and the eyepatch reflected nothing. He wondered idly what it was made of. What did it feel like?

Dipper wasn't sure how long he stared, but eventually he tore his gaze away and towards the fire as well. It would need to be stoked soon, maybe add another log.

But for now, he was content to just watch the wood crackle and the glowing embers float upward before they slowly faded away.

* * *

Bill waved goodnight to Dipper as the boy headed to his room.

Bill had proclaimed that since he didn't sleep, retrieving the bed from the cellar would be unnecessary. Dipper hadn't seemed so sure, but was tired enough that he didn't argue.

"Just, if you need me come get me, okay?" Dipper urged.

Bill waved him off. "Don't worry about me, Pine Tree. I'll just be going through these books here."

Which Bill did, for an hour or so. When he was pretty sure that Dipper was asleep, an assessment that was a bit harder since he was out of the range where he could detect the boy’s active dreamscape, he set down his book and made his way to Ford's room.

Breaking the barrier was easy, although he got a bit of ash on the floor since the poker he used was still dirty from adjusting logs in the fireplace.

Making a mental note to clean it up afterwards, he stepped inside and sifted through the piles for books that seemed like they could hold the answers of his entrapment. Earlier that day, he had gotten nothing done, too paranoid that Dipper would come home and catch him in the act. It would be better when he learned Pine Tree's work shifts.

But until then, he was content to sneak around in the night. The night was his element after all, him and all the other nightmarish horrors. He was the best of the bunch, of course. Not that he could feel the lesser beings. All that was once ever-present background data was gone. It had been so long that he was forgetting what it felt like in the first place.

He wondered if that was also due to his human body. He had been alive millennia, what was twenty odd years? But his mind was so much slower now, his view so much narrower that the seconds dragged by like knives through his skin.

Bill realized he'd been staring at the cover of one of Sixer's many alchemy books. The craft wasn't one that had much basis in reality, but the logic that it was founded on was solid in the dreamscape. Probably not what he was looking for. Setting it down, Bill kept looking.

In the end he grabbed two, one on the finer points of Matter Transmutation and a journal by Sixer dated a year before his capture.

Moving to the living room, he set the books down on the coffee table and went to Ford's door, kneeling by the ash powder covering the wood. Shrugging, he used the cuff of his shirt to pick it up, leaving a distasteful black stain on the material. Staring at the stain, he pulled a face. Why hadn't he just gotten a dishrag?

With a huff, he stood back up and made his way to the fireplace, grabbing the Transmutation book on the way. While the ceiling light was an option, he really didn't want to fiddle with the dial, and the filmy yellow light that came off it wasn't anything to brag about.

Plus, the temperature besides the fire was delightful. Bill had half a mind to stick his hand in, to cup the flames and make them dance in his palms. Unfortunately, he felt that getting his skin burned off was a very likely outcome if he tried.

Right. The book. Bill opened the tome to a random page and began.

"-and when the particles have coalesced in the most Perfect of Forms it can render, the true nature of the source will have beget the other, just as imperfect as the last. These Forms are tethered to our plane with the help of alchemy, as One becomes just another side of Two."

Bill groaned, already wanting to throw the book across the room. Why couldn't humans just say what they meant? It was one of their virtues, of course, but at this moment it wasn't helping him at all. He suffered through another ten pages of the nearly 600-page work before giving up and taking a break.

He truly hoped that that particular book didn't contain the answers he was searching for, because he'd never find them.

Standing up to pace around, he passed by another bookshelf. He had already skimmed all the covers when Dipper was at work, and he knew that none came close to answering his questions, but what caught his eye was the small mirror, reflecting his image back at him.

Bill blinked owlishly and reached out for the mirror. The thing was ovular and only eight or so inches on the longer diameter, outlined with a ring of tiny metal flowers. Staring at his reflection, Bill was not impressed with the shaggy quality of his hair, nor the ill-fitting-ness of his clothes when he held the mirror at arm's length.

Well, the first flaw could be fixed. Striding into the kitchen, mirror still in hand, he grabbed a knife and sat down at the kitchen table. The light in here was sorely lacking, so he took the time to light the oil lantern that Pine Tree had brought down with him so many a time before he got to work.

Adjusting the mirror in front of him to a good angle, he took the knife and grabbed a tuft of hair, neatly slicing it off without a second thought. He was pretty good with a knife, if he did say so himself, and the following slices were just as precise. In the end, the table was covered in his hair, and that left on his head fell only to his ears, not nearly his shoulders. He knew that there were products that could improve the shape and add slickness, but Pine Tree seemed to have problems with a simple comb, so Bill had little reason to believe Pine Tree owned such products. No matter, this was better already.

Sweeping the chopped hair off the counter and into the waste-bin, he felt more in control of his situation than he had in years. He should ask Pine Tree for another bath, the last one had been a while ago. Perhaps now that it was less of a hassle to get the tub down into the cellar, he'd be able to bathe more often.

Bill's train of thought halted. Right. He'd be out of here in a matter of days, there was no reason to try and make plans like that.

Sitting back down at the sofa and picking up the abhorrent book, he wondered if maybe this 'week and outta here' plan was a bit unrealistic. Perhaps it would take months until he found the spellwork he was looking for. That would be unfortunate, but seeing as everything was on his terms, it wasn't the worst possible outcome. At this very moment, the barrier was down and he could slip off into the night if he truly needed to. Well, if he really wasn't making progress in a month, he'd call it quits.

Until then, he took one last glace at the gibberish tome and decided that the torture of reading it wasn't going to happen. Getting up, he placed it not so kindly back inside Ford's room and instead focused his attention on the journal.

That book was a much better read, full of Sixer’s paranoia and contained lots of bits about himself. "He's watching me." "Bill knows, he's out for my head." "The fate of the world rests on my shoulders, I can't let Bill win." How dramatic.

When the sun started to rise, Bill knew he'd have to call it for the night. So, with a sigh, he returned the interesting, if not uninformative, journal back to the 'forbidden room' and turned the barrier back on. It felt a bit like suffocating, to activate the barrier, but it was for the best. Pine Tree needed to think that all was well.

The boy's door was still closed, and Bill wondered what he was dreaming about. Proximity heightened his powers, but judging from the night when Dipper had fallen asleep on him, even direct touch couldn't give him access to the content of the dreams. That was unfortunate.

If it was up to Bill, he'd visit the kid's dreamscape personally and he’d give Pine Tree whatever world he wanted. Pine Tree could be a king, a god if he so chose. You could learn a lot about a person from their heart’s deepest desires. In fact, before all this, he had been devising a way to make such a trap, but one sustainable in the waking realm.

Mind trailing off, he wondered what Dipper's ideal world would look like. The boy seemed to thrive in mediocracy and acted happy enough with his simple lifestyle. With Ford, there had always been the underlying desire for knowledge and recognition for his talented mind. What could Dipper want? There had to be something.

Yet his attempts were fruitless, and by time Dipper stumbled out of his room with a sleepy smile, he was no further than when he started in figuring out what could possibly make the boy tick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and sticking with me. Once again sorry for the wait, I'll try to be more on track in the future.
> 
> Hope it was enjoyable, I'm having fun switching between Dipper and Bill POVs more often.


	15. Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. I'm so sorry this took forever.

Denial suited Dipper well. He knew this whole situation wasn't normal from the start, and he knew that he was practically putting his life on the line on a daily basis with the new living arrangements, but he couldn't help himself. Waking up, his heart beat just the slightest bit faster with the knowledge that Bill was in the next room over, their talks had returned to their usual vigor, and coming home to find the demon sprawled in front of the fireplace never failed in making the tension melt off his shoulders.

He was happy living in the small world he had created with just him and Bill, where he could pretend that everything was okay, that everything was normal. Only in the silent hours of the night or the frozen and barren walks to work did the insecurities and paranoia creep in, whispering in his ear that what he was doing couldn't be undone, and that there would soon be consequences.

* * *

Saturday was a normal day by all accounts, except for the fact that there was no work to go to, leaving the majority of Dipper's time to be spent at home. With Bill. Waking up, such a prospect had Dipper hastening to get up and dressed bright and early.

Spending large swaths of time with Bill wasn't new per se, seeing as he occasionally spent some weekends practically living in the cellar with Bill, but this was different. Plus, he would rather not think of that cellar. Although it had been their reality up until a few days ago, the memory of Bill chained up left a sour taste in his mouth.

Having finished getting dressed, Dipper reeled his thoughts back to the present and gave himself a once over in the mirror, quickly deciding to run a brush through his hair a few times before deeming himself presentable.

Dipper exited his room with a smile on his face that he tried in vain to smother.

"Good morning, Bill!"

No answer.

Unfazed, Dipper walked over to the kitchen, since it was the only other room Bill could be in. Leaning into the doorway, Dipper was met with the sight of Bill's back, the demon seated at the table turned away from him, hunched slightly.

Quieter, and slightly confused, Dipper repeated his greeting.

Bill looked over his shoulder, face stretched in a wide smile. "Pine Tree! I love these knives you have, very fine silver. Probably because Fordsy wasn't going to take any chances with the werewolves in these parts."

Now very much confused, Dipper walked up to the table to find the now-removed cookware drawer with its contents spilling out, knives neatly lined up.

"Bill..."

Bill waved him away.

"Just admiring. I'm sure there's no point getting into a discussion with _you_ on the finer aspects of a cleaver versus a filleting knife when it comes to stripping the flesh off a body. Heh, point."

Dipper was actually a little pale at the idea of such a conservation, so instead, he opted to give a noncommittal hum in response and move to the cabinet to take out the bag of oats for oatmeal, pouring enough out for the two of them.

Behind him, the metallic clink of knives echoed in the quiet kitchen. Dipper decided not to turn around and investigate further.

After they had eaten, Dipper and Bill made their way to the living room.

Bill sat down on the sofa and grabbed his latest book off the coffee table. However, before opening it, he made a point to glance over to Dipper, who was standing awkwardly by the armchair.

"Bye, Pine Tree. See you tonight."

"Um. Actually, I have today through Monday off."

Bill's eyebrows raised. "Really? I never noticed."

"Well, sometimes I go in on Mondays if Candy needs more hands on-deck."

Bill nodded slowly. "Well I'll be here reading as always. Feel free to join."

With his proclamation, Bill lifted the book to cover his face, and Dipper floundered at his lack of an idea what to do. Not wanting to remain standing there like an idiot, Dipper took Bill up on his offer and quickly grabbed a book off the shelf.

Eyes skimming the words, Dipper couldn't help but feel a bit disheartened at the thought of the day being spent in respective silence.

The silence prevailed for a little under an hour until Dipper began to fidget, staring at the clock or Bill more often than his book, not that he had gotten more than ten pages in. Finally, although it was a bit early, he decided to start on the daily chores.

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt Bill's gaze as he stood up and walked to the kitchen and out the back door to feed the chickens.

Outside longer than usual to get some fresh if not cold air, he watched half-interested as the birds stretched their wings for a bit outside the coop. From this view, he could vaguely see into the kitchen, and on the roof, the chimney let out a constant stream of pale grey smoke.

Dipper was forced to begin corralling the chickens into the coop as snow started to fall, meaning he had to go inside as well. It wasn't that he was dreading going back inside, but he didn't want to just sit and read. Maybe it was cabin fever. Was that possible?

Boots crunching on the small layer of snow switched to the soft thud of boots on wood as he walked onto the porch and into the house, letting out a pleased sigh as he was engulfed by the heat of indoors. Okay, inside wasn't that bad, probably not cabin fever.

In the living room, Bill hadn't moved.

Dipper then awkwardly went into Ford's room to feed the fire-ants, reemerging after a handful of minutes. Visits into Ford's room were now kept to a minimum, as it was a reminder that Bill was himself barred from entering. Because he wasn't free. Similar reasons made Dipper avoid looking at Bill's hands, where manacles remained clamped around his wrists.

Sitting back down, Dipper looked around for a bit, reluctant to pick up his book. He made a note that the wood for the fire would need to be restocked soon. An idea came to mind.

"Bill, do you want to help me make hot chocolate?"

Bill glanced over the top of the book at the sound of his name being called, contemplative look on his face.

"I remember when the Olmecs first invented the stuff, although these days it's a lot sweeter."

Dipper took that as a yes. "Great. Let's go get the pot started."

In the kitchen, Dipper got an iron pot on the stove and poured in some milk. He had bought the chocolate disks on a whim a few weeks back when winter had begun to set in. He remembered the drink fondly from his childhood in the chilly winter months. Oregon winters were a bit more than chilly, and he was excited at the prospect of a warm drink.

When he grabbed the disk, he shoved it towards Bill.

"Here. I want you to break it into smaller pieces otherwise it's going to take forever to melt into the milk, then put them into the pot."

Bill did as told, and afterwards, they took turns stirring the pot, waiting for the milk to heat and the chocolate to melt. Soon the chocolate had dissolved, and Dipper pulled the pot off the heat. He got out two cups, ladled them each full, and headed to the table. Bill followed.

Sitting across from each other, Dipper grasped for something to say. It was more difficult than planned, but the two had hardly said a dozen words to each other so far and he wanted to change that.

"Uh, you said you were there when hot chocolate was invented?"

Luckily, it got the ball rolling, and Bill started on a long rant about the finer military stances of the remarkable civilization. Dipper listened as attentively as possible - he was trying to get better at focusing on what Bill actually had to say since he had caught his thoughts wandering to Bill in general more often than not recently.

Bill had moved on to the Aztecs and had just gotten in to the sacrifices by time they had drank their fill and were moving in to the living room.

While Dipper wanted to just keep listening for a few more hours, the fire was down to smoldering embers. Waiting until a pause in Bill's words, Dipper announced that he was going to get more firewood. 

Bill stopped in his recollections of a particularly brutal war he had possibly helped start. "Need any help?"

Dipper shrugged. "The wood is outside, so I guess after I bring it in you help me carry it."

Bill stared at him for a second before responding. "Okay."

"Great."

Dipper went to the coatrack and grabbed his coat and put on boots. The two then made their way to the kitchen, Bill stopping at the table.

Dipper gave him a sheepish smile as he opened the back door and stepped outside. Snow was still falling as he made his way to the sizeable wood stack he had slowly accumulated. The watery sunlight of the setting sun did nothing to warm him up, and he wasted no time in grabbing an armful of wood and turning back to the house.

Thankfully, he got the door open without dropping anything, and inside, Bill relieved him of half his load.

"Thanks, Bill." Dipper said cheerfully.

"Sure thing, Pine Tree."

But the way Bill said it caused Dipper to hesitate, the intonation more resigned than his usual sarcasm.

"Everything alright?" Dipper questioned as they made their way into the living room and towards the fire.

Bill turned to give Dipper a large smile. "Just dandy, Pine Tree."

He set the logs onto the floor and Dipper followed suit.

"If you say so," Dipper said with a frown, not completely convinced. But then he was concerning himself with loading a few logs into the fireplace, adjusting them with the poker until the fire was back to full strength. If something was wrong, Bill would tell him.

They had just sat back down and the clock was chiming three when a knock sounded at the door.

Dipper's eyes widened in horror. The only person that could be on the other side of that door was Mabel, and here Bill was, sitting in the living room. Was now really going to be the time he introduced his sister to the demon he had freed? Maybe he could play it off that Bill was new to town and he needed a place to stay. He could explain away the manacles, right?

"Bill, that's my sister."

On cue, Mabel’s voice rang in from outside, "Dipper, are you in there, it's been a week, it's time we spent some time together. I brought a friend, too! Open up, it's cold out here!"

With Mabel's declaration that she was not alone, Dipper decided that now was not the time to tell her about Bill.

"Bill, I'm sorry, but I'd prefer if you could maybe make yourself scarce while she and her friend are over?”

Bill looked affronted at the idea. "And where would you have me go, back in the cellar?"

"Could you? Just the entrance area, the rest is rubble. Plus there's no way she'd want to check out the root cellar."

Dipper knew it was wrong to make Bill do such a thing, but Mabel's knocks were getting louder.

Bill huffed and stood up, grabbing a blanket that was draped on the sofa. Without looking back, he stalked into the kitchen and threw open the cellar hatch, quickly making the descent.

Once Bill had disappeared from view, Dipper took a deep breath and moved towards the door.

"Coming, Mabel!"

Opening the door, his sister with her vibrant grin stood next to a girl with the blondest hair he had ever seen. Her features were less enthusiastic at the sight of Dipper.

Mabel had tackled him with a hug and a screech of joy. Dipper leaned into her embrace, seeing as it had been a whole week since he had seen his sister. He had missed her.

Once Mabel had drawn back, she thrust her arms out to showcase the woman next to her.

"And this - is Pacifica Northwest!"

Pacifica nodded and stuck her right hand out.

Dipper shook it with awe. Northwest? The family that lived in riches on top of the hill? This was the heiress that bought three new dresses every week from Candy and Grenda's shop? Not that Dipper got to work on any of those, they were too important to risk him messing them up.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Northwest," he managed to say in a steady voice.

Pacifica drew her hand away and Dipper realized he had still been shaking it. Whoops.

He stood back to unblock the doorway. "Please, come in."

The two women stepped inside and Dipper closed the door behind them, shutting off the stream of winter air.

He motioned for them to take a seat and went to the kitchen, remembering there was still some hot chocolate left. He ladled them each a cup, hoping it was still warm. Walking back with the two cups, Mabel's eyes shone with wonder.

"Hot chocolate? Dipper, how did you make this so fast?"

"I already had some on the stove." Well, it was true.

"Thank you!" Mabel excitedly took the mug proffered to her and took a sip.

Pacifica took hers with some reluctance and, after glancing at Mabel, began to drink as well.

Dipper, who had declined to get a cup for himself, sat and watched awkwardly, hoping his smile wasn't coming across as forced.

Finally, Mabel set her mug down and began to tell Dipper all about her run in with Pacifica and how they had hit it off. Inevitably, she also got to the reason for the house call.

"And Pacifica invited me to a party of hers next weekend and I asked if I could bring a guest. You're so antisocial, you just go to work and then back home. I figured you could make some friends at the party! Everyone's going to be there."

Dipper really didn't want to go, but with Mabel's pleading gaze and Pacifica looking as if she'd make anyone who dared passed such a generous an offer to one of her exclusive parties thoroughly regret their decision, he wisely decided to accept the invitation.

"Great! It's next Friday at 6 pm."

Pacifica then added her two cents. "It's black tie, so please do dress accordingly."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Dipper here happens to look dashing when he actually puts effort into his appearance."

She then turned and stage whispered to Pacifica, "not that he ever does if he isn't forced to."

Dipper shrugged, "I prefer not feeling like I'm suffocating under all the layers of what's considered formal attire."

"Speak for yourself, dresses are so much worse!" Mabel countered.

Pacifica, in a ruffled cream dress with a dark green trim, complete with many thick and lacy layers, nodded in agreement. "This outfit took 45 minutes to put on."

"And Pacifica, it looks gorgeous on you!" Mabel praised.

Pacifica's smile was barely visible, but it gave away as to how pleased she was at Mabel's compliment.

Dipper smiled politely as the two held each other's gaze.

Finally, Mabel broke it and turned to look at Dipper. "So we'll see you there?"

"Yes, I'll be there, and I'll dress up accordingly." He said tiredly, but fondly.

"Wonderful! Well, we should head off, it's going to be dark soon."

With that, the two girls stood up and Dipper waved them out. The snow had died down to softly falling flakes, giving their departure the look of a scenic winter painting.

When they turned the bend, Dipper closed the door with a satisfied nod. That had gone well, and while he wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of going to the party, maybe Mabel was right that he needed to get out more. Lately, his world had narrowed down to work and Bill.

Bill...

Oh god, hopefully Bill wouldn't hate him for this.

Apprehensively, Dipper went to the cellar and opened the hatched door.

"Bill? Uh, they're gone now... You can come out."

After a few seconds of shuffling sounds, Bill was stepping into the kitchen, deliberately avoiding looking at Dipper. Okay, so he _was_ upset. Dipper closed and latched the cellar door, and in that time, Bill had left the room.

Trailing into the living room, Dipper found Bill sitting in front of the fireplace. His shadow was projected on the adjacent wall of the rapidly darkening room, the sun beginning its descent.

Unsure of what to do, Dipper walked up to him.

Still looking away, Bill spoke up. Speaking quietly, his words still cut through Dipper like knives against his skin.

"Pine Tree, no matter which way you cut it, I'm here against my will."

Dipper wanted to reach out to Bill, say that it wasn't the case. But it was, and that fact made him feel awful. He really didn't want to have this conversation.

"Well. I mean, I can't just let you go..." Dipper said with a small voice, secretly glad that Bill was looking away.

Bill scoffed and glanced behind his shoulder. "Some friend."

Dipper's eyes went wide. That wasn't fair at all! Bill wanted to destroy the world, he couldn't pull the "friend" card.

"Bill, come on, that isn't fair. I didn't ask to be in this scenario, I'm trying to make this as painless as possible for you.”

"You just shoved me back in the cellar when it was convenient for you," Bill said, then began to stand up.

Dipper wanted to shrink back, but he held his ground.

"Okay yes, I admit that was a terrible thing to do. But overall, it's not that bad here, right? You have food, a warm place to stay, books to read. You've seemed happy enough..."

"No thanks to you."

Dipper may have been rightly terrified that Bill was now only a foot away from him and glaring down, not that he was much shorter than the demon, but Bill's statement was more than a little inaccurate.

"Um, yes thanks to me. If it weren't for me, you'd still be rotting down there in a pitch-black, freezing cellar."

Bill make a dismissive gesture.

"Fine, you were convenient. Nothing more than a way out of that cellar because you're a weak-willed _child_."

Bill's statements were causing Dipper's hackles to rise, and suddenly Dipper was a bit less willing to let these insults slide. He took a step towards Bill.

"Oh, so all the times we talked and read and ate together meant nothing to you? You're a better actor than I thought."

The smile Bill sent him was chilling. "Yes, Pine Tree. I am."

Dipper didn't want to believe it. In a second, he was close to tears and desperate to make a witty retort, to make Bill take it back.

"Well... what about that time you kissed me? You like to pretend it never happened, but that sure seemed like something you wouldn't do if I was just a means to an end. Why'd you do it, Bill?"

"That was forever ago, Pine Tree. And for your information, it meant nothing to me," he snarled, "but I bet you were kept up all night wondering if I _looooved_ you. Pathetic."

Dipper was now two inches in front of Bill's face and red with anger.

"Not true!"

"Whatever lets you sleep at night." Bill said tauntingly.

"Then answer my question. Why'd you do it?"

Bill shrugged. "To make you uncomfortable. It was funny to watch."

Dipper wanted to punch the smug look off his face. "Well then it must have been twice as uncomfortable for you since you seemed to block it out of your mind. Let's put the theory to test."

"What?"

And then Dipper was smashing his mouth against Bill's. Anger and hurt fueled the kiss. It was unpleasant and nothing more than a crash of teeth, over too quickly to really feel anything.

Dipper pulled back, still glaring at Bill, who had become frozen still during the kiss.

When he reanimated, he glared down at Dipper.

"Pine Tree." Bill growled, expression deadly calm.

Dipper didn't have a moment to respond before Bill once again closed the gap between their lips, kissing with fervor.

Without much thought, Dipper kissed back until it dawned on him what was happening. He pulled away once more.

"Bill, what..."

"Is that not what you wanted, because it seemed like you were enjoying it a second ago."

Was all of this some elaborate joke to Bill? Back to being enraged and more than a little confused, Dipper's fist shot out, consequences be damned. Bill caught it easily.

"Pine Tree, getting this upset over a little kiss? Tsk, tsk."

Dipper wanted to kick and shout. He wanted run to his room and he wanted to wake up and find that none of this had ever happened. But instead, he was standing inches apart from Bill, fist still in Bill's grasp.

The gears in Dipper's brain were spinning rapidly. What would happen now?

The question was answered for him when Bill used the hand still in his grasp to bring Dipper closer until the two were flush against each other. Dipper barely needed to tilt his head to look Bill in the eye. The emotions present in Bill's gaze made it click. A victorious smirk bloomed across Dipper's features.

"Shut up." Bill said, voice low, before resuming what they had started. Dipper let him.

Dipper was in a daze as Bill hauled him up in his arms. Dipper paid the change in position no mind except to wrap his legs around Bill's waist and deepen the kiss.

Bill steadily walked to the couch, Dipper's weight not having an effect on him. Sitting down, Dipper ended on his lap. Bill's hands were now carding through Dipper's hair and down his back.

Dipper's mind was empty except for the intoxicating feeling of Bill's hands along his body and the taste of Bill on his tongue. There was almost nothing to taste, only the faintest hint of ozone to give the impression that he was in the middle of a storm.

However, when Bill's fingers traced lower, Dipper snapped out of the kiss as quickly as if he had been doused with cold water.

Bill took it in stride. "Fine by me, Pine Tree. This is plenty fun enough." He tossed in a sultry a wink.

But the spell was over. Bill went to kiss Dipper, but Dipper turned his head. Still catching his breath, he felt Bill's hands trail off him.

"Pine Tree? Pine Tree, come on, I wasn't that bad a kisser was I?"

Dipper shook his head barely enough to be seen.

"Well then what's the problem?"

Dipper turned back to Bill with fearful eyes. Problem? Oh nothing, he had just been making out with a demon. And not just that, he _wanted_ this. Maybe he'd wanted this for longer than he'd thought. But Bill wasn't the right person to be having these feeling towards.

"Bill... I need time. I think I'm going to go to bed."

Dipper watched the emotions play out on Bill's face. Confusion, anger, acceptance.

"Okay, Dipper. Goodnight. And I'm still upset about earlier."

Figuring as much, Dipper nodded, then awkwardly got off of Bill. He then walked towards his room, giving one last look back when he got to the door. Bill sat there on the sofa, meeting his gaze head on. Dipper turned away in shame.

Once the door was closed and locked, Dipper crawled on his bed and stared at the wall. The feeling of Bill's lips was a phantom against his own, and for a split second, Dipper wanted to go right back out to have the real thing. But no, it would be for the best if he stayed right here. Tomorrow, they could talk it out. If Bill even wanted to talk to him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why this chapter took me so long. Words were just not coming to mind! But I'm happy with the final product and I hope you guys are too.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with my slow-poke ass.


	16. Maybe

Dipper dreaded getting up.

The images from the night before had come back almost immediately upon waking, crystal clear and gut wrenching. Mabel and Pacifica, the fight, the... the kissing... What had he been thinking? A flashback to the night before came to mind. His body pressed up against another, burning hands trailing down his skin.

He curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut. Up until now, he'd never had such an experience. Sure, he'd had a few fantasies, most assuredly focusing on sweet country girls or the women that had bustled down the street in the city, but none had ever passed into real life.

_Why was this happening to him? What did he do to deserve this?_

His thoughts swirled around haphazardly, trying to justify what had transpired. Was it the fact that Bill was a demon? Could he be practicing some magic on Dipper that swayed his thoughts without notice? Or it could have just all been from the stress of the fight, emotions running high. Maybe it was all just a really vivid dream and there was actually nothing to be worried about.

But despite his best efforts, nothing could shake the part of him that purred in pleasure as he remembered Bill's lips against his own, a flash of desire coursing through his veins. He could not shake the idea that he had done it, of his own free-will, because he _wanted to_.

Dipper quickly shoved those thoughts down and with a wounded moan, buried his face in his pillow, wishing for sleep to reclaim him so as to be in blissful ignorance of absolutely everything.

What was he going to do?

* * *

Bill laid on the floor by the fire. He had succumbed to the temptation and stuck his hand in, attempting to make the flames dance as they once did. No such luck, as he had theorized. The twinge of the burn covered his fingertips down to his palm, still dusty with ash. No matter, the wounds would heal. He pressed a nail into the raw, pink flesh, tears automatically pricking at his eye. Why were these fleshbags so prone to tears? What use did they do in the face of fire or a raging beast?

He let his hand drop and went back to staring into the flames.

* * *

Almost mechanically, Dipper made himself get up. He had spent enough time lying in hazy shame. Staring at the small mirror on his rickety dresser, red-rimmed eyes looked back, his skin paler than usual. Without making any effort to clean himself up, Dipper turned away and headed to the door.

Twisting the handle, his head pounded; he felt mildly sick. Not wanting to lose his nerve, Dipper stepped outside the safety of his room.

Eyes darting around almost too fast to take anything in, Dipper's gaze landed on Bill, lying on his stomach in front of the fireplace. He briefly wondered if Bill had slept there. The demon didn't move to acknowledge Dipper's presence, and only the steady rise and fall of his body taking in breath gave evidence to the fact that he was alive.

Dipper took in a breath, paused, then let it go. What could he even say? Instead, he slunk into the kitchen. Having no energy to make something complicated, as well as having the feeling that his stomach would protest if he tried, Dipper slowly cut himself a slice of bread and spread on a thin layer of butter.

He chose to move his chair before he sat down, picking it up so the sound of it dragging wouldn't echo across the silent room. Sitting, he had a clear view of Bill, still lying there. The distance between them wasn't large, but it felt like an ocean. Was this how it was going to be from now on? This wasn't the first time the two of them were driven apart, but the divide here felt so much larger.

Finished with his small meal, Dipper remained at the table, haunched over and shrinking in on himself. His fingers traced the grains of wood on the table, trying to convince himself to step back into the living room. They really needed to talk.

He had replayed the night before enough times to know where he went wrong, and he really was sorry for making Bill go down into the cellar. He should have just put Bill in his own room, the girls wouldn't have questioned the closed door. But he had panicked, hadn't thought it through. And then everything had spiraled out of control.

Dipper pushed his seat back with a jarring scraping noise, but he paid it no mind. Any more hesitation suddenly made his stomach turn. Walking with his shoulders rolled back, he strode over to Bill, still in front of the fire, and sat next to him, determined.

However, the words died on his tongue as he saw the state of Bill's right hand.

“Bill, oh my god what happened!?” he spluttered.

Bill, who hadn't moved a muscle when Dipper had sat down, let his face twist into a sharp smile. "Fire."

Dipper leaned away slightly. "Bill why would you do that?"

The blond rolled onto his back and brought his wounded hand up over his face to examine, moving his fingers slowly in a wave. "Why do anything?"

Dipper wanted to scold the demon, but the deadly calm look in Bill’s eye made him reconsider. Instead, he and got up to go get the medical kit.

Coming back, he stretched out his arm towards the demon. "Hand."

Bill glared at him.

"Bill. Give me your hand," Dipper ground out.

Bill held it closer to his chest.

Oh my god this was like dealing with a five-year-old.

Dipper kneeled down and moved closer to Bill, voice quickly becoming tinted with anger. Why couldn't he do this for Bill? He'd messed up enough, all he wanted to do was to make it right. 

"Bill, I'm sure you'd heal fine on your own, but some cleaning and bandaging would make the process easier. Please."

"No, Pine Tree. I don't want you to."

Dipper stared. The fight slowly drained out of him.

He set down the open metal container and rubbed a hand down his face. For how little he had done since getting up, he felt so tired.

"Fine, fine. Just, please don't do it again."

Bill's eye narrowed. "And if I do?"

Dipper gave him a mournful smile and shrug. "Then I'll be right here to bandage it up. If you let me."

He stood up and moved to the sofa. Grabbing a few pillows and blankets, Dipper dragged them over to the fireplace and dropped them next to Bill.

Without a word, he laid down, pushing some of the bedding towards his companion. Lying directly on the floor couldn't be comfortable.

For a second, both were still. Dipper held his breath. Without a word, Bill's uninjured hand snaked out and grabbed a pillow, pulling it back to stick under his head.

The tension between them lessened.

Dipper looked at the being next to him through the corner of his eye. Taking a fortifying breath, he took the chance to speak.

"Bill. I'm sorry about last night."

"Which part, kid?" Bill drawled.

Dipper flushed. At least Bill seemed to be focused on staring at the ceiling.

"I made you go into the cellar. I mean, you suggested it, I was panicking. I should have realized that you weren't being serious. I'm sorry that my actions hurt you."

Bill scoffed. "Your actions didn’t 'hurt me,' I'm an immortal demon who'll see the end of your insignificant race and watch the universe BLINK OUT of existence by powers greater than you can comprehend!"

Dipper cringed at the raised volume of Bill's voice, but the words themselves had little effect. Dipper was almost positive that they were just for show. Why else would Bill be so upset that he was forced to stay in the cellar? He'd avoid that place like the plague too if he had been forced to stay down there for, what, twenty odd years? And then Dipper just went and shoved him back in, ignoring how it could affect Bill.

But if Bill didn't want to acknowledge that, then fine.

"Okay, Bill. I get it. But I'm still sorry I made you do into the cellar. I shouldn't have tried to boss around a being of 'ultimate power' such as yourself."

Dipper let the sarcasm drip into his words. Bill understood sarcasm.

"I _am_ a being of ultimate power," Bill whined.

Dipper’s lip twitched. "Yes you are, Bill."

"Good. Can't let you get too complacent, Pine Tree. I'm stronger and more powerful than you, and I deserve respect. No one shoves BILL CIPHER into a cellar!"

"Of course. I won't do it again, Bill."

Dipper rolled his eyes. While he'd have preferred Bill accept a genuine apology, this round-a-bout way worked too.

"And yet you're still keeping me here."

Dipper froze. He wasn't sure how they'd get past this one. He chewed his lip and his eyes traced a crack along the ceiling as he thought of the best way to respond. At least this time, anger wasn't spurring him on.

He picked his next words carefully. "Bill, what am I supposed to do? You want to start an apocalypse. I'm doing the best I can... And I promised Ford. Don't you respect deals?"

Bill didn't respond for long enough that Dipper glanced over. Bill's face was contorted, as if he had just bitten into a lemon.

"I do. Doesn't make me hate it, Pine Tree."

Dipper nodded slowly. _Do you hate me?_

Bill seemed to read his mind. "And you're a pain in my side on the best of days."

Without thinking, Dipper's arm landed heavily across Bill's chest, causing his companion to let out a sharp exhalation. Serves his right. And not two seconds passed before Bill regained his breath and let out a wheezing laugh.

“Alright, alright, Pine Tree. I’ve met worst fleshbags.”

Better. Dipper smiled, but it went away as they resumed the matter at hand. “So, are we good?”

Bill pushed off Dipper's hand and crossed his arms. "Fine, kid. I'll let you off this time."

A weight fell off Dipper’s shoulders. Good. This was... good. He had gotten what he hoped for from this conversation. Maybe he could just leave now while he was ahead. Unfortunately, the gears in his mind would not stop spinning.

"Bill, what about... the other thing?"

Dipper watched nervously as the demon sat up, himself following suit shortly after. Bill's attention was now towards the fire, so Dipper let his gaze drop to the floorboards. He drew in his legs. He hated appearing as weak, but in that moment, he just felt so small.

" _Dipper_."

Dipper looked up at Bill, the use of his real name not lost on him. Bill's eye seemed duller than usual in that moment.

"If you don't want anything to do with me in that regard, then just forget it and I won't bring it up again."

Of course. That made sense. This was an extremely precarious situation in so many ways and one wrong move? Who knew what could happen. Better they never speak of this again. Good.

Bill cut off his string of thoughts.

"But if you do..." Bill's eye lit up with a predatory gleam. He didn't need to say anything else to get his point across.

Dipper's stomach dropped. He scrambled to piece together his next sentence.

"Bill. No. I mean I don't... How?..." His voice dropped down to a whisper. "how would this even work? How can I be sure you're not messing with me to make me let you go?"

Bill smiled brightly. "You can't."

Dipper knew it was coming, but hearing didn't make it hurt any less. What else did he expect from _Bill Cipher_? And not the demur and helpless-acting Bill from the start of it all. Dipper wrinkle his nose in disgust at that Bill, so obviously a lie.

This was better, knowing where Bill stood. It made his decision easier. The same decision from the start, obviously. That whatever fluke last night was, wasn't happening again.

Why were they even talking about it? Bill Cipher had tried to kill his uncle and take over the world. And even if that was somehow set aside, Bill was a man. Or at least he was in a man's body. With a male's name. None of these thoughts brought as much disgust as he had hoped.

God, there must be so much wrong with him.

Coming out of his thoughts, Dipper saw that Bill was staring at him, expression bored, but guarded. He forgot what he was supposed to say. Had Bill asked him something?

"Bill, why would you even want this? I'm essentially keeping you captive, and I'm nothing special.”

Dipper hadn't planned on asking, but the question had slipped out. The tips of his ears burned red. He sounded like a child, desperate for affection.

Bill smirked and leaned back, propped up by his arms.

"Well Pine Tree, you're here, I'm here. And this body feels so much! What a rush! Why not make use of the situation?"

Dipper didn't believe a word of it at first. No, there was more, there had to be. Anger and hurt were quick to rear their ugly heads as the reality of the situation set in. Because why should Bill feel anything? Dipper was a fool for believing that the demon wanted anything more than some fun. Dipper Pines was _convenient._

This revelation propelled him into saying what should have been said long before this point. He shouldn't have even let it get this far. 

"Bill, I don't want this. Let's just forget it all happened." 

Dipper watched as Bill remained quiet for a few seconds, staring blankly at him. Then, calmly, he stood up, looking very tall from his position on the floor. 

"I understand, Pine Tree." 

The smile he offered was almost kind. He extended a hand to the younger man, but Dipper only stared owlishly at the proffered appendage. Bill pulled his hand away with a huff, moving it up to straighten his shirt. 

"Cheer up, Pine Tree, you look like you're about to throw up." 

Dipper wanted to deny it, but he probably did look awful. Even after all that had been said... He wanted to take his answer back. Why did he want to take it back? 

Getting no response, Bill spoke again. "Well, I'm going to go get something to eat." 

The man moved to step around the other to get to the kitchen, but didn't make it more than two steps before Dipper was scrambling to his feet. 

"Wait!" 

Bill took a step back and turned around, the two of them now face to face. He raised his eyebrows in exasperation. _“Yes?”_

Dipper knew this was all wrong. He had more reasons than he could name, but the words came tumbling out, making his heart beat wildly. 

"Bill, I honestly believe this is going to go up in flames, but I want to try." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Dipper wasn't too OOC?
> 
> One day I'll get back to a more regular posting schedule. When school is less hectic.
> 
> Y'all are perfect jellybeans. Just to let you know. I love my readers, every last one of you. See you next time!


	17. Author's Note

Hey guys. I'm sorry, but it is the dreaded author's note page.

I've been really struggling these past few chapters and it's been taking me a month to write what used to be taking a week. At the moment, I've really lost passion for this story and I feel that that lack of passion is going to hurt the work if I try to push through. I feel the plot is becoming rushed and the characters are behaving ooc and just a lot of problems that are stemming from me not having the same level of care that I had in the beginning.

Of course, I have a deep-seated hatred of leaving my own works unfinished, but as of now I'm putting this story on hiatus, and I don't know when it'll be lifted. Whenever I find the motivation to come back, I suppose.

I truly love this fandom and billdip, and I even have a few outlines on other stories, so you might see more of me, but for this story… not so much. This is by far the longest story I've written, and maybe I just pushed myself too far.

I really didn't want to have to do this, but I haven’t even wanted to start the next chapter this time around, and I hate the feeling of writing being a chore.

Thanks for all the love and support as this story has progressed, it means a lot to me.


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